


Laurent's Heart

by 8hephaestion8



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: AU, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Captive Prince - Freeform, Cathars, Crusades, France - Freeform, Friendship, Gay, Gay Sex, Love, M/M, Male Friendship, Male Homosexuality, Medieval, Oral Sex, Papacy, Sex, Toulouse - Freeform, captive prince big bang, captive prince reverse big bang 2019, feudal society, pope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:27:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 43,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22007050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8hephaestion8/pseuds/8hephaestion8
Summary: Laurent is the second and only son in a noble family.  His brother Auguste died on Crusade, so partly because of this and mostly because his mother is not alive, Laurent was placed under guardianship. The man is wicked and dangerous, he retains his power because he is part of the feudal chain linking him to Raymond of Toulouse, one of the twelve Counts in Medieval France who in turn owe allegiance to the King and to the Pope.  Laurent's family have heritage but no money, they are obliged to pay impot de sang or feudal blood money either in service or material objects.  It is Laurent's misfortune to be in the thrall of Paul of Toulouse.Damen is also noble, and higher in feudal society.  His family are rich in land and heritage, neither are rich in monetary terms. Damen leads his commune with the help of Nikandros, his boon companion without whom he does not make a decision. His position differs from Laurent who is at the mercy of everyone around him.Laurent has a virtual noose around his neck, and a hand upon his  heart.  This story is how he manages to free himself and learn to love openly.The background is the Cathar Revolution, the themes are those of the Captive Prince.  Enjoy!
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12
Collections: Captive Prince Reverse Bang 2019





	1. One

Laurent looked at his father. 

‘Must I go?’

‘The Honour of our family is at stake. You have to assist Paul of Toulouse, otherwise we default on our impôt du sang, I cannot afford to pay the fine. Our land is not rich, we have limited resources. He is by default your Guardian, our Feudal Lord; I owe him infinitely more because he has been very helpful. With your mother gone, I needed help to bring you up in the right way; look what he has done for you..he presented you at court, you have been introduced to Count Raymond of Toulouse, that is truly an honour. There is no way I could have done that for you. It is simple the family owes him.

‘But when will the debt be paid?’

‘I don’t understand you, we are aligned with him, you know that we are vassals of his estate, he is Noblesse de robe, aligned to Raymond of Toulouse, thence directly to the King and the Pope’.

‘…I want to know when I can be free of him.’

His father shook his head and turned away. His son was a mystery to him. The boy took no interest in the estate, all he wanted to do was ride expensive horses, read and illustrate books. He was an excellent swordsman, his late brother August had seen to that, building on the military skills he had learnt at his Guardian’s household. His slight figure belied the strength in his arms and the core of his body; he was skilled in combat, fit and had already taken part in a tournament. He had been brought up noble, it was time for him to do his feudal duty.

A feudal noose tied firmly round his body. Only to be broken on the death of his guardian.

He copied text and illustrations from the family bible into his own books. And he was good at it. He even bound them in soft leather and stitched together the pages. His brother August had been the warrior, Laurent should have been the cleric. He was like a monk, reserved, able to concentrate for long periods of time, his temperament studious. He was fully seventeen, and had reached his full height, standing around 5’ 10’, tall for his compatriots but short for his family. Both his father and his brother had been over six foot in their stocking’d feet, the family were known as giants, except him, only now was his father stooped with melancholy. The reason? His brother had died on the way to Crusade in Constantinople, part of Paul, his Guardian’s contribution to the cause, forced to join the Venetians, dying in the battle to re-take Zadar in mainland Europe. 

Family participation in Crusade ended there, father was too old and Laurent was too young. If Auguste had returned triumphant both the family honour and income would be vastly enhanced. Instead, his body lay somewhere in a battlefield unregarded and forgotten, the armour which had been bought at great expense smashed to pieces, the horse taken down by an arrow in the chest, Auguste thrown down in the melee and unable to defend himself, crushed and trampled to death. His father heard that he had died heroically, but who could tell, he had to be satisfied that Auguste had gone to Crusade with a good reputation, an honourable young man of twenty-one who was already a celebrated warrior and noted for his success at the Toulouse Tournament He was trustworthy, a good communicator and a leader, someone with a brain and someone to fear on a battlefield. He was gone. Only Laurent was left, to make what he could of the family name.

The father turned back and regarded him.

‘Wake me up when you leave. You go tomorrow at dawn?’

A sullen face looked back at him. In his head and heart Laurent rejected his family and his Guardian. He was a Cathar. A learned one. He did not take the path to his conversion with ease, he had reason. The world was a wicked place, it made no sense, Catholicism had not served man well, the clergy were hypocrites, the Pope and his men took money as penance, and ventured forth only for more money; the twelve counts did everything to retain power, scheming and taking land and property to build up their own estates. The Crusades cost a lot in terms of expenditure, resources and manpower, all the Pope had came care of his vassals, the Counts, and down the line through them, nobles and fiefdoms.

The men Laurent was taking were not formally trained for battle, they were a hotch potch of loyal locals. Some young with no experience or rudimentary training, others older and seasoned in service of one kind or another. He had ten men, that was all his family could afford to train and supply arms for. He had a horse, a common rouncey, and his second in command Jord rode a second rouncey – he could not afford dedicated warhorses; a working farm horse was used as a pack horse to carry canvas for shelter or makeshift tents, cooking utensils, blankets, food supplies, and other supplies for fighting – only essential items, the soldiers had to walk. He left behind his beloved palfrey, he would risk that black devil in warfare, the one prized gift from his guardian. The men had been supplied with heavy leather jerkins, strong cotton trousers and short leather boots that could cope with rain and bad terrain. They each had limited chain mail and no armour.

Laurent wanted nothing to do with the religious community, it was rotten from the core outwards. His brother had died because of papal excursion to Zadar, there was no need for them to be diverted, the Venetians wanted to plunder the town. It was a wicked rotten world and the religious sores upon the back of humankind. They could not tell him what to do from a position of righteousness; he would go to Toulouse, under cover of providing support to the Count, join the rebels and take his men with him. There was nothing his father could do.

As the sun rose over the horizon, he mounted his horse and his father appeared in the doorway of their mansion to see him off.

‘Farewell my son, honour your father and your family. I hope to see you back home safe and sound in a few months’ time.

Laurent was dressed in chain mail, the hood swung behind his neck, it was already pulling on him. They could not pack the working horse anymore, even now if ambushed they would be easy targets, everyone and everything was loaded with supplies for the trip. He pulled out his rudimentary map from the small bag on the back of his saddle, and guided his men out of the main estate in Cordes sur Ciel and onto their circuitous route down to Toulouse, wishing to stay off the main road even it would be quicker but safer to travel on the small roads and tracks. They intended to camp only on three nights, near Rivieres, Parisot and La Garenne. These places were near small villages, woods and streams. They could stock up, wash and gather wood and food, if they were lucky they might find somewhere to stay in one of the actual villages. They should reach Toulouse in 3 to 4 days, a steady pace and not too much pressure on the men who had to walk.

They set off down the hill into countryside, it was a pleasant Autumn day, crisp and dry, they need not fear heavy rain, Laurent looked up into the sky.

‘The sun is very warm; I feel we will need to stop before we planned. The horses will need water and a rest.’

Jord was careful in his speech. Laurent was his Lord, so far he had proved a fair but cool and reserved presence in the family house. Jord attended him as his steward and now as a soldier, he understood his duty and his loyalty were tied to the de Vere family; Jord was key to Laurent, he was a steadfast presence who held his tongue, and there was no-one else on this journey that Laurent could talk to. He relied on Jord to give orders to the men, used to giving orders because he managed the estate and had fought alongside his brother.

They rode on in silence for a while, Jord uncertain about chatting to him. Laurent seemingly at ease with the lack of conversation, an unknown quantity, polite and yet steely, he carried some burden that he would not let down nor confess. Jord decided to speak, they could not spend three days on the road with no conversation.

‘The fields look very green.’

Laurent turned a sleek pair of blue eyes on him.

‘Yes they do. That is due to your hard work.’

They rode on for another fifteen minutes. Jord tried again.

‘Plum’s mother is not well.’

‘Who is Plum?’

‘Leading the pack horse.’

‘What’s wrong with her?’

‘Ague. Struck her down three days ago.’

‘Fretting probably. I hear that women suffer in that way.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘They are not hardy.’

Jord looked at him. He could not work him out. This reserved young man wasn’t quite being empathetic, his tone was very matter of fact.

‘They do not like sending their child off to war, that is all. She will come right again when he returns. Let’s stop, there is a small wood over there, and I can hear water.

Aimeric, you and Adric take the lead, we are going into that copse. Plum, follow them, unpack the horse, let him drink, You, others, behind us. We will rest here for a little while.’

Jord looked at him but did not say a word, merely kicked on his horse and went before Laurent with his men. Laurent was not surprised, he did not care it was not his job to make Jord or the men like him, he just had to make sure he had their loyalty, at least until they reached Toulouse, then they could choose to come with him or not.

Plum heated some water, which when it cooled, they drank. They had been advised by Laurent’s physician Paschal to boil water to make it safe it to drink if they were outside of a town, or there was no free-flowing water. The men sat around the clearing and chatted, they were a good-natured group who generally got on well, there was one person who was troublesome but Jord kept a tight grip on him and would not allow him to cheek him or Laurent. His name was Govart, a braggart but a good dirty fighter, the others were a mixture of newbies and wily fighters who had been to war at least once. Most men did not survive more than two battles, it was a messy, dirty and dangerous business, if serious injury was avoided, then there was the possibility of illness through infection of wounds large or small, bad food, or contagious disease. If injured in battle, a soldier had better be under a good war surgeon or suffer a barely competent field physician cutting off the offending limb, then being left behind with townsfolk to recover, effectively dead weight and no more use to the battleforce, the fear of most injured men was being left to die on the battlefield.

Laurent was more concerned that they did not make themselves too comfortable and leave themselves open to attack. They still had five miles to cover before they could either camp or find a nearby village to beg for quarters for the night. He allowed them an hour then chivvied them to re-start their journey. There was mild grumbling which Jord crushed and they were on their way again. They achieved Laurent’s aim and reached Rivieres. Laurent sent Aimeric down the road, he was a lesser noble’s son, presentable and attractive, he might be able to persuade a farmer or merchant to take them onto an estate or farm for the night.

In fact Rivieres was so small that there was only a church, a mansion and farmland, nothing else, he returned, and the group travelled down a track, wishing to stay off the road used by coaches and carts, a farmhouse was sighted eventually. Laurent went into the rough farmhouse himself to beg the farmer to rest on the land. A burly young man opened the farmhouse door, behind him a young woman with a baby on her hip, in one corner an old woman barely sentient, in the other a sleeping child. A younger man came from around the back, Laurent could hear some cows and other animals coming from round the back of the house, there was evidence of chickens but they had obviously been put away for the night or were in a run at the back of the property, in fear of being stolen or killed. It was likely that every creature man woman or beast was resident in the same abode. The sun was just setting it was five o’clock, if allowed to stay they would be asleep by eight and up at five or six, the men had some of the water they had boiled earlier and could make rough gruel from their supplies, perhaps the Farmer could give them a few eggs or dried meat to make a satisfying breakfast one on which the men could march. If they could save some of their own supplies, they could eat well through the rest of the journey.

‘Come to join Count Paul’s forces have you?’

Laurent nearly told him he was not a Count but held fast. The fact that Paul’s influence had reached this far was something he had to acknowledge, and not invite scrutiny. He just wanted to get to Toulouse, and effectively a new life.

‘Yes. Can you help us? We want nothing of you only shelter for the night. If not shelter, some land where we can make camp for the night. If you can spare us a few eggs the men would appreciate it.

The burly young man looked him up and down. He gave an off-colour smile. 

‘Where have you travelled from?’

‘Cordes sur Ciel.’

‘Oh…where are you headed?’

‘Toulouse, a couple or few days walk from here, I reckon.’

‘You reckoned well…you can stay on the land, Joseph here will show you. Joseph take them to the old house, it just about has a roof, there’s no furniture, we all live here now, but you are soldiers so will manage, at least you have come to support the Count. There’s a well down there too, the water comes from the spring so you will drink fresh water. Joseph fetch some eggs and cheese from the pantry. You lot wait here for him, he won’t be long. A good night to you, maybe we will see you in the morning, but I suspect you will be gone before we start work, won’t you?’

He had dropped a hint and Laurent took it.

‘Yes I suspect we will.’

That meant they would need to be up by six, the sun rose around seven and by this time the menfolk of the farm would start tending the animals.

Thank you for your hospitality we are grateful for it.’

As he turned away, he told Jord to set sentinels and have the men take turns so that they could not miss their deadline for leaving. Aimeric overheard and said he would take a first turn with Jord if that was OK. Laurent looked at him, Aimeric was a wiry wholesome young man obviously not a soldier, and he drew looks. One or two of the men had already started to look at him. He hoped Jord would take up with him, otherwise there would be trouble.

‘I’ll leave that with you Jord, sort out a roster.’

Joseph returned with a small linen bag in his hand which he handed over to Laurent, who promptly passed it to Plum.

It should be said that friendship between men in that time encompassed a number of things, not just comradery and company, sex between men was or could be part of that friendship, a natural thing. It was also a way of acknowledging that men away from home were liable to fall upon each other as way of relieving frustration. It was natural, so if it was wanted there was no shame. If done discreetly and with consent on both sides, a leader might rest easy that camp life would be more peaceful. It only became problematic when the desire was not fulfilled, or consent was not willingly given.

Laurent was not warm and friendly, he was polite and reserved so it was not easy to work out where his preferences lay. He showed no desire for another person, and he only used as much emotion as was required to get things done. He was like burning ice, people were attracted to him but he froze everyone out. He coldly implemented decisions and did the right thing but did not seem to be aware of what was right in the circumstances, it earned him the reputation of being unfeeling. He wasn’t, he had plenty to concern himself with and to take control of, not all of it seen.

The Guardian had seen Laurent as another young man; like all the other young men taken into his house, a person that he had been given, that is how he saw it, a person for his use and disposal. It was of course abuse.

When his mother had died, the Guardian stepped in and took Laurent into his house at his father’s request, and thence into his bed. Aleron, Laurent’s father took everything at face value, and it was not clear if he knew or acknowledged what had happened. Laurent had taken to his Guardian as a young person who was vulnerable and in need of affection. Laurent knew no better, he accepted the affection as he saw it and when his Guardian returned him home with knowledge beyond his years, his father saw the change in him and walked away, not wanting to acknowledge what had happened. Aleron knew what went on in Paul’s house, in his grief he had not taken sufficient notice or care, making a blind assumption that he would not treat Laurent in the same way, only grateful that he did not have to look after two boys. He had Auguste, he understood Auguste, he was a man, a boy who was clearly masculine and destined for great things. Laurent he could not measure, when he went away at thirteen he was already secretive and self-possessed. Aleron thought it best that he was in a house that could cater to his needs, books, learning and a courtly life. Laurent got these things and drank them like rare nectar during the day; the nights were initially difficult and then they weren’t. If nobody said it was wrong then he had no option but to accept what happened to him at night as normal. There were no women in the house, only Paul and men who were dependent on him and not likely to intervene. He was cared for, given good food and his physical needs were more than looked after. He was trained in the skills expected of a nobleman, taught how to handle a sword and a horse, given fine examples of both, given initial training in hand to hand fighting, and shown how to use a knife in close combat. He learned how to use his body to please not only in bed but also a in fight arena. He was natural, elegant in look and stature, he drew the same looks at seventeen as at thirteen. When Laurent returned he did not speak as a child and he did not share his experience in the house, at fourteen he was a man in a way that spoke of someone who had experienced life fully, someone who could deal with anyone or anything but the experience had come at some kind of cost. Aleron affected not to understand his sensitivity and took the boy’s attitude as insolence, so for the second time in his life Laurent learnt to deal with an elder who did not care about his emotional distress. His father brought him back into the household and took care of his superficial physical needs but did not try to get close to him and Laurent hid behind an effective shield, he had learnt how to cover up how he was really feeling.

After Paul there would be no more lovers, that side of his life was over, no one would ever get that close to him again, that is what he promised himself. He had only left the house because Paul had taken on his next lover, another boy called Nicaise, who had arrived as a ten-year-old and was already in situ when Laurent was taken into the household. Paul was preparing Nicaise for his service, recognising that the boy was not physically or emotionally ready for what he needed. The boy’s family had fallen into poverty through no fault of their own, and Paul appeared to be the answer to their problems. Paul waited until Nicaise was twelve and Laurent watched how it was to be and shut down his emotional life so that he could deal with the rejection and the next phase of his life, and he saw that he had one life to live, and he wanted to live and he knew that he had no choice but to carry on and deal with that experience so he could go on.

And everyone in the house knew what was going on and tutted and talked about it behind Paul’s back but what could they do, there was layers upon layers of hierarchy stretching backwards and forwards, dependency and the means to a comfortable life, an acknowledgement that life was a series of payments and dues, of one sort or another, nothing more. And so Laurent was expendable, he had come and he would go, like those before him and those to come. And in this way the Guardian put a hand and a chain on Laurent’s heart, and a noose which choked all feeling, and so destined his future.

Damen lay with Lykaios, he had just fucked her, and they lay snoozing and resting after their exertions. Damen was a considerate lover and gave as much as he took, taking her to orgasm before getting his own, then settling her into his side so she could rest rolled up against him. She began to sleep soundly whilst he mused on what he had to do the next day. It was late at night, he thought about calling in Nikandros, but he was probably already sleeping or in someone’s bed. The deep night was peaceful, the household mostly asleep, knowing they had to be up to make the house ready for their master and Nikandros. There was a servant outside his room, sleeping on the floor on a litter, the other servants were down in the kitchen and storeroom area, sleeping on litters or in blankets where they could, taking turns to keep the main fires in the hall and kitchen alive.

Lykaios had appeared one day, a relative of his boon companion and head of household Nikandros, someone he trusted and relied on. Lykaios was a distant cousin visiting town from the country, she was as fair, petite and delicate as Damen was tall, broad and brown, and it was lucky she was barren, and experienced. They fucked at will and would often disappear into Damen’s quarters or his bedchamber if at home. Experienced himself, he had already had his heart broken by Jokaste another petite fair-haired girl, who was a demon in bed and out of it, lost to his brother and so both lost to him. As far as he was concerned both were dead to him.

An orphan with family, like Laurent, except unlike Laurent he was sunny in temperament. If he was with you, he would stand by your side, pay your debts or take you into his household. As a result he was not rich in material things but in friendships and love, and he knew how to love, truly love that is to love and accept the whole person, he could not help it…he even still had some love for Jokaste. If she came to him in need he would help her, not take her into his home or back into his heart but help her and send her on her way in way that could help her set up her future. He attracted loyalty through sheer power of personality, naturally big hearted. He was a straight down the line person, if you did right by him, he would do right by you. The household and his men were not frightened of Damen, they knew him and cared about him and for him, but they were frightened of Nikandros, he was the tart to Damen’s ultimately sweet character, it did not do well to fall out with Nikandros, he did not temper his implementation of justice with fairness, it was right or wrong, so as with Damen, everyone knew where they were with Nikandros and they could make no appeal to Damen because Damen would just give the person a look and ask them to explain what had happened, and then agree with Nikandros regardless. Running from one to the other with tales made no difference, as soon as they were found out, the offender was put off the estate. Newcomers were vetted, if found wanting let go within a month, the household ran smoothly. Couples of any kind were accepted, it was simple, no abuse of any kind otherwise risk being put off the estate with no chance of rebuttal, or worse. They had no problem recruiting staff or members of their small force. The small force of twenty men were well looked after, but they had to work to pay for their keep, half in military training half in working for the estate. These men slept in what effectively a dormitory. There were private places around the estate where couples could take their pleasure, everything was thought through and there was a waiting list of people who wanted to join them.

The Cathar Crusades was a fight Damen joined because he owed fealty to Count Raymond and he wanted his protection, so whilst he was Count Raymond’s equal in the lineage of his family and their nobility, he was not minded to play politics and preferred to fight for him than pay lip service supporting a religion he only followed because it was convention. And like many others he saw how venal the whole set-up was, there were even rumours that Count Raymond was actually a secret Cathar and was only putting up a front to retain his position and money. The family had been given Lisle-sur-Tarn a new commune by Raymond, so Damen was deep in feudal debt, the commune had restored Damen’s family to their rightful place in society. On his father’s death, Damen was away from home, fighting on behalf of Count Raymond’s father, a young warrior who proved himself on the battlefield at seventeen, He fought again for the Junior Raymond in the local guard against riots in Toulouse caused by Cathar resistance. He was now twenty-four, a seasoned fighter, and lead the family estate. Raymond wanted to reward him for his support. The estate had been swallowed up by the new commune to his advantage. It also meant that his brother was now closely looking at the family fortune, at any time Kastor could return to make claim to his portion. For now Damen did not need to worry, Kastor was in Toulouse and trying his hand for a place on parish council by sucking up to Paul. He was succeeding and making his own way; it was when he had gained a secure place that he would be dangerous, for now his attention was elsewhere. Damen kept his thoughts to himself and brushed off any gossip, there was some politics to be paid and some had to be pushed to one side.

The next morning he rose from his bed, smacked Lykaios’ ass to wake her, had the servant bring in some warm water so he could wash, and then went to find Nikandros.

‘Nikandros! Nikandros! Where are you, get your ass in here!’

A bleary eyed Nikandros came into the hall, where a bench table was being set up with breakfast, leftover meat from the night before, fresh bread and some fruit, figs and melon, taken with weak beer. There was water but these two preferred a vessel of beer with breakfast, and Nikandros needed it.

‘Where did you go last night?’

Nikandros rubbed a finger against his nose, that meant he had been fucking someone deep into the night.

‘Who is she?’

‘Who said it was a she?’

Damen laughed. 

‘He must have been good…’

‘I’m going back tonight...’

‘OKkkk…What’s the schedule for today?’

‘Is that why you called me in here?’

‘I want your company, as well as to discuss the schedule.’

‘You don’t need to discuss the schedule, you know we don’t leave for another week, what’s on your mind?’

Damen huddled over the table.

‘What am I going to do with Lykaios?’

‘Jesus, is that your only worry? Have you spoken to the blacksmith? Or sent letters to the houses you want to stay at or quarter with yet?’

The answer to the important questions was no. This was typical of Damen, he was more worried about telling Lykaios that he was sending her back to her hometown, for her safety, than sorting out the final elements of their trip to Toulouse. The men were preparing for the trip, cleaning their mail, keeping swords and weapons sharp, getting the horses in shape for heavy roads and loads, making sure the wagon they were taking was in good order, the blacksmith was checking horse shoes and making sure he had the right equipment that could be taken onto a fighting situation and checking the wheels of the wagon, and so on and so forth.

‘Do you want me to tell her?’

‘Would you?’

Damen snapped at the offer, then changed his mind.

‘It would be best if it came from me, wouldn’t it?’

Nikandros sucked on his teeth.

‘Yes, you ass.’

For someone who was fearless in battle, his timidity with telling women that he was done with them was almost legendary. Amongst his friends he was the one who was always in trouble when he stopped wanting someone. He would drop hints, start fucking some other woman and soon or later the one being supplanted would find out and because he did not fuck straightforward women there was always drama.

Lykaios had lasted a long time because she fought a war of attrition, when Damen wandered off tempted by a new source of delight, she would leave the bedchamber to his new conquest and sleep in the small room where she had originally been installed. Normally within a few weeks or a month or so, the new conquest was abandoned. Lykaios was easy going and understood Damen very well, she took care of his needs in and out of bed and she knew how to make him wait for satisfaction, not giving up anything until the new conquest had been gone more than a week, because she knew that Damen could not go long without sex. Nikandros was wondering how he was going to manage on the road. This was going to be interesting. Lykaios couldn’t come with them, she would waste resources by needing to be protected, and the men would grow restless, their leader couldn’t be fucking in the open for everyone to hear and see, and the wagon was for supplies. She had to go. He might tell Damen to make her go that day or the next, so he could get used to sleeping alone for a little while. The problem was that it was very short notice, he wasn’t sure if that was good news or not, Lykaios was easy going not stupid, he would have to send her back with money and gifts, she might have to go into a nunnery or back into her father’s house. A burden or chattel, the least Damen could do would be to find some minor member of the nobility to take her off his and her father’s hands. Nikandros could think of one or two that might be suitable.

‘I have some letters to write and send back home today. And there are some merchants I have to meet or organise to meet. I am going to the solar, you might join me later?’

‘No I have things of my own to deal with, I will come back here for our midday repast.’

So Damen went back to Lykaios and Nikandros went to do some business.

Lykaios understood that something in the vein of being sent back was going to happen. She was very calm and only demanded that she spend one more night, and he pay her for her time. That did not sit well with Damen, she was not a prostitute, he felt sorry for her. He did not sleep with her that night and gave her no cash, only fine cloth, some of his mother’s oldest jewellery, and some household items that would not be out of place at court. If she wanted to sell them she could, he would not pay her cash that only cheapened what they had had, he had a feeling that Nikandros was also trying to set up her future. He would speak to him; he might see if he could pay a dowry for her. She had been with him for two years, he would miss her, but he did not love her. He found talking to her much easier than he had anticipated. That night although he missed her, he steeled himself, this is how it was going to be for the foreseeable future. His bed was going to be cold and empty.

Laurent looked at Plum, he was a good-looking boy, sturdy, tall, mousy haired, grey eyed and tanned from working out in the fields. He was in no way noble, but in form and now muscled from fight training he could see that Plum was a prize both on the battlefield and in someone’s bed. One of the men would surely want to bed him, he was inexperienced, Laurent could tell by talking to him. He didn’t want him, but he had a good eye and a smell for these things; Aimeric was already sniffing around him. He might have to get Jord to work his magic sooner rather than later. Plum needed to concentrate on warfare he couldn’t have his head turned by romance or sex. He looked about him, Jord was looking at him strangely.

He realised he had been staring at Plum for a while. He didn’t feel the need to justify himself, he rode on, called Plum to hold his horse whilst he got off and asked him to take care of Hercules, a large horse not quite a warhorse but fearless and needing careful handling. Plum tapped the horse on the nose, he got its attention and it behaved itself. So Plum was good with the animals as well, he was a good choice. Jord was still looking at him, he’d give him something to look at. He called Plum over.

‘I see you are good with Hercules; would you like to be my groom? You like working with the horses don’t you? And I need someone to help me and also to attend me in town.

‘I don’t know anything My Lord, you might want Adric, he’s done some of that work before.’

‘No, I want you. I will start to teach you.’

He came close and started talking to Plum. Quietly so their conversation could not be overheard. Plum caught on quick, he dropped his voice and turned away so that he was all ears and eyes for Laurent. It was noted.

‘Why are you called Plum?’

‘I am not ripe yet Sir…my Maman calls me unripe and sour, she is waiting until I mature and can be taken seriously.’

Laurent laughed.

‘Your mother has wit.’

‘What is your real name?’

‘Isander.’

‘I will call you Isander.’

Plum began to melt.

‘I was named for my father. I think sometimes I remind her in a bad way, she loved him very much.’

‘It is probably in a good way Isander, to love someone that much is very precious. I lost my mother very young too. She was irreplaceable, but we have to carry on…life can be very hard.

Make sure the horses get enough water, and some grass, we won’t get hay until our next stop. Jord! Jord!’

Jord was coming down the track to join them.

‘Give your horse to Isander.’

Isander tied the reins of all three horses together and walked between Hercules and the pack horse, Hercules was on the outside of the group and Isander was talking to him, he remained calm.

Jord looked confused.

‘This is Isander, this is how he will be known from now on. I want to talk with you.’

‘Call me Plum…I’ll never get used to Isander…’

He drew Jord off and somehow brought Aimeric into his conversation, laying a seed for when they reached camp. The old house was across a field, just visible from the track into the estate. Laurent could see that there were probably only two or three rooms, there was the ten men, himself and Jord. He and Jord would share the smallest room, which was probably a room off the main room, the other rooms would be a living space with the main fire and at the back a stable or cattle shed, with another space above these rooms. They could probably all fit if nobody objected to sharing with the animals. This was resolved when Plum and Aimeric volunteered to sleep in the stables with the horses. Laurent spoke.

‘Jord, You and Aimeric sleep in the small room, I will share with Plum.’

Both looked at him. Now they would definitely think he was hoping for a fuck.

Somehow, all of the group got somewhere to sleep in the house. They all found somewhere to sit in the main room to eat their evening meal; Adric killed a hare and Plum skinned and boned it, and made a stew type soup with some old carrots and parsnips they found in a sack, which they ate with bread, and in the morning they had the eggs and gruel so all was well. In fact they had eaten better than they would back on the estate. They made the most of it, probably at their next stop they would not be so lucky. They made a modest toilet, drawing up cold water from the well to wash places they could reach or needed washing and were on their way again by seven as they needed, when the sun was thinking about coming over the horizon, by the time they had walked or ridden half an hour the sun was up and their way looked fair.

The next night they intended to camp near Parisot a small town in Tarn near Giroussens, an old town part of the Count’s domain. They were making good time, having stopped in Gailiac for bread, some wine and some dried meat and fish because it was on their way to Toulouse. Jord had handed over the rough map to Aimeric who was walking ahead with Plum who was still leading the pack horse, the rest of the men were in front of Jord and Laurent who remained a little way back not wishing to overtake on the horses. Both wanted to give the men some responsibility. Plum and Aimeric were chatting away, Laurent looked about him and he didn’t see any of the landmarks that he had noted on the reverse of the actual map which was on a piece of goatskin. It consisted a series of circles and in each was a depiction of the church, the manor or main estate, major roads in and out of town, and trading posts or houses of senior merchants and outside the circle a cross to show Farmhouses or large farming estates, the landmarks on the other side included large trees and what to look for to signpost the next town, items which showed that a boundary wall was coming up or areas where enemies might lurk. Laurent rode forward, Jord following.

‘Aimeric, where are we?’

‘The south west road.’

‘I think we are on the north west road, that was the Abbey, we should be passing an old oak tree. I think I can hear the river.’

Aimeric stopped and looked himself. Needless to say he had been engrossed in conversation with Plum or it should be said Plum was listening to what Aimeric had been saying.

‘I asked the Warden on the gate for Parisot. He told me to take this road.’

‘There are two Parisots, we want the one on the Roman Road… did you ask him for the Roman Road?’

Laurent was met with silence, they had been riding for two hours, that meant they had covered four miles, a half day would be wasted as it would take another half day to get back on route, they might have missed their meeting point.

Let’s stop and find somewhere to rest for tonight…forget that, let’s go back towards town, we will reach the Abbey very soon, they will allow us to camp or stay and there is water and land for us to camp.’

The men began to grumble, there was some cursing and Aimeric’s name was heard amongst some gross words relating to what they might do to him.

‘We have no choice, we camp here or we can go back and ask the monks to allow us to stay somewhere within the Abbey, the monks might allow us to stay within the walls as we are going on Crusade, we have to find a way of persuading them.’

Jord spoke: ‘Plum you come back here, walk with His Lordship, Adric you go in front with Aimeric, from now on this will be our formation, Lazar take up the rear with Govart. Jord rode behind Aimeric and Adric, he took the map from Aimeric, they would not go wrong now.

The Benedictine monks were welcoming, and so a second piece of luck, they were allowed to stay in an outhouse, and they were fed. Aimeric was forgiven, because this was also the cause of their good luck, he was however on a short leash and Jord was now keeping a very close eye on him. Attractive or not he was obviously prone to error and he had no redeeming feature to offset his carelessness. Despite having been proved wrong he remained in good humour and brushed off the whole thing as being slightly distracted, openly noting that Plum was too handsome, he was behaving coquettish. At this Jord called him to attention and made him fetch in the water they would need for the evening which he had to draw up from the Abbey well, it was a walk of fifteen minutes, drawing the water took another ten and then he had fifteen minutes back, the buckets were heavy, and he had to make three trips. He was kept busy for the evening fetching, carrying and serving the other men and then made to wash up the utensils, and Laurent’s undershirt in water he had to heat and then half dry the shirt in front of the fire so it would be ready in the morning, and through this he learnt to shut up, when they turned in at nine, he was still working, afterwards he was shot and fell asleep immediately. The next day he was very quiet.

The next morning Aimeric stood in front the group and apologised.

‘Sorry about yesterday, I wasn’t paying attention.’

‘You were paying attention except it was to your dick.’

Someone in back said this quietly but loud enough for all to hear.

Both Aimeric and Plum blushed deeply. The apology was accepted and thereafter Aimeric tried and demonstrated that he could be trustworthy, and he left Plum alone. As a result Jord felt sorry for him. Laurent held his council. The next day they doubled back on themselves back to the town boundary where they had gone the wrong way.

‘Shall we try to make up the time or shall we go as far as Giroussens, we can probably do that in a day but it will be late when we arrive, then we can spend the next day getting to Toulouse and in that way still meet up with Count Raymond’s forces. How say you all?’

Laurent looked into their faces, the only dissent he saw was Govart, who had no reason for dissent but obviously felt like being an ass. It was the first time he had shown opposition, so far the men had held together and followed instruction or requests.

‘What is it Govart? You look unhappy.’

‘Don’t you think it’s too much for one day?’

‘No. It is a lot but do you think that you will have an easy time of it when we actually join up forces? We won’t have nice camps or nice monks to let us stay in nice buildings, you will be sleeping in shit and mud. There will be rain. It will be too hot to fight. The town might be under siege, there might be no fresh food only preserved goods and porridge, not nice rabbit stew with fresh vegetables cooked by Plum or hot food prepared by nice monks. You are here to help defend the faith. What say you now? All of you?’

It was a dangerous game, Jord knew this, one person dissenting could break open the tacit agreement that there was only one leader, Laurent. Jord had confronted Govart because he needed Laurent as back up, Jord gave the orders to the men, Laurent gave the advice and provided the resources, he managed the resources which included the men. Laurent had to be the final stop, if he had to, he would turn Govart off. He held his eye and although he did not openly say anything, Govart got the message, at least he decided to fall in line. Jord thought that’s another one I’ll have to watch.

And so at marching pace with one break for something to eat, dried meat, a hunk of bread and a mouthful of weak beer, they reached Giroussens and Laurent decided to give them all a night off. The men were tired, Laurent paid for a hostel where they could all sleep on straw litters, he did not arrange any cooking and allowed them to wander off into town. Jord joined the men, Laurent stayed and went into the main room of the attached tavern. When he looked across the room Plum was seated in a corner with a tavern girl already attached to his mouth. He seemed to be managing very well. Not shy or behaving like a ingénue, ten minutes later he had disappeared, first sending a wink over to Laurent. Laurent sat there nursing an ale, and thought about turning in, he wasn’t tired but he might get a few moments respite where he could read a few pages of his special and illustrated Cathar bible, an abbreviated version he had made for his own use and was contemplating this when a low enticing voice interrupted his thought.

‘May I join you?’

Laurent looked up. It was an attractive young man, well someone who was perhaps a few years older than him, auburn hair, slim with green eyes: ‘My name’s Ancel, I won’t be staying here long, I just wanted a few moments company, would you mind? There’s no-one else I would like to join.’

He spoke like a gentleman, but he wasn’t one. Laurent had seen that look many times, he was high class but he could be bought for coins. His Guardian was not above inviting such young men to come and service him when he felt like a change, Ancel was typical of his Guardian’s type. Slim, young looking, well spoken, and above all experienced.

‘Sit. I also have a few moments spare. What brings you to town?’

‘I am joining a…group of colleagues…I…we hope to get to court to meet Count Raymond.’

Laurent thought, I bet you do. Plenty of wealthy men there, now was the perfect time to get in with Courtiers, they would be jostling for power and something that added credibility was a lovely young man hanging off every word. It would not matter if the courtier was married, the type of business Ancel was in was a gentleman’s business that had no bearing on marital status, in fact the times had somewhat reverted to that of the classical Greek period, love and desire of other men was not something to be ashamed of, and might even be seen as something to valued, in a courtly way, they were descendants of the first knights, love and honour was not just a thing for men to offer women. In times of war, morals and tradition were apt to go out of the window.

‘You are very thoughtful. What is on your mind?’

‘Nothing, sorry I was thinking about our journey. We are on the way to meet Count Raymond’s forces at Toulouse, he is defending the town against the Cathars, they are very strong in Toulouse and threaten to over-run the city.’

‘I was hearing something of this. I’m afraid I have no more news than you. Forces are gathering from all around, that is all I know. If you want something to take your mind off the troubles. I’m quite good at providing entertainment, I can dance, sing and recite. I can tell you which songs are popular and recite you some new poetry. We could take a private room…I offer other personal services.’

His eyes were hopeful. Laurent let him down.

‘Thanks, but I need to retire. We have an early start, sorry I am not very good company. I’m not good at the entertaining thing. Sorry.’

Laurent rose, he turned and placed a silver sou on the table.

‘Don’t go with people who have no respect for you.’

Laurent went out of the back of the tavern and into hostel, he could hear some gentle sounds, some unmistakable, couples who lain down for the night, animals settling, conversations and also unexpectantly, singing – it was Ancel, an airy baritone, he had found an audience in the Tavern, there was a gentle ripple of applause. At least he had found something to do which was not sordid. When he went into the room, he found most of the men had already returned, it was only the youths who had not yet returned, he nodded a greeting and took off his footwear, keeping on his knitted socks, then unlaced his jerkin and pulled the laced fastenings of his leather trousers, pulling them down to reveal a calico pair of undershorts, slim refined thighs and shapely calves; one or two of the men were mesmerised. Laurent was indeed something to behold in reduced clothing, the eye was drawn to his blonde hair which now revealed to be a little more than shoulder length, his skin the colour of fresh cream under laid at points with coursing blood and blue veins, his chest in proportion to his slim body and masculine, as he lifted muscled arms to shrug off the jerkin, he revealed a linen undershirt and a fine line of dark blonde hair which ran down his stomach and disappeared into his calico shorts, the dip of his back lead to buttocks which were small but defined, dips and hollows could be seen through the material, and he was blessed with a large cock. The shape of his cock and pattern of hair surrounding was outlined through the calico which softly draped his body. The men in the room were now surreptitiously looking at their leader, now they had seen him almost naked they were in awe, some were aroused. He pulled a rough blanket from the stack in the corner, got into his litter and turned to the meagre light in the room provided by a candle in a candlestick and the fire, both barely sufficient to read. He gave up the idea of reading and started reciting the catechism to himself, when he had finished he got up and blew the candle out, which was best as it could not now be accidently knocked over by returning men. He got back onto his litter turned over and went into fitful rest. Eyes opening when the youngsters including Plum returned about an hour later, all men accounted for he finally rested, and gave himself up to sound sleep.

In the morning a gentle hand roused him. Jord was waking him, all the men were already up and at their breakfast, provided with the cost of the room.

‘Get up Sir. We have around half of the hour.’

Laurent took a moment to come to and swung himself into a sitting position, there was a bowl of warm water, he washed naked unembarrassed to strip before Jord who averted his eyes, he drew on all the clothing from day before, the under things would be washed when he got to Toulouse, the days were not too warm, they could bear wearing once more, his body was mostly clean. When he was fully dressed he joined the men for a quick repast and they went back into the room, fetched their things double-checked nothing was left behind and set off for Toulouse.

The men were in good humour chatting amongst themselves, joshing Plum, and turning a sly eye on Laurent’s now clothed figure. It was now clear why he had taken Plum under his wing, to protect him until Plum showed that he could look after himself. Aimeric was absorbed back in the group and himself faced a good deal of ribbing, he took refuge in chatting to Jord, regarding him as a reliable older figure who was sympathetic and who did not tease, this despite Jord being no older than twenty seven. Aimeric was twenty-one as was Plum. Laurent’s youth was no bar to his authority, everyone knew who was in charge and was OK with it. They stayed off the Roman Road and kept to country roads arriving at a wood just outside Paulhac town, part of the larger commune. They stopped to eat and make a decision about whether to send a forward party or arrive as a group, no-one actually knew if Raymond was actually in Toulouse or away gathering forces. They had a mustering date but the place and time was uncertain. One thing was certain, they would reach Toulouse that afternoon.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Laurent and Damen are on their into Toulouse, the differences in their approaches to life begin to come into play. They also meet the men who will play a large role in their future. Charls an old family friend and Paul, an influential and powerful man who continues to make Laurent's life difficult.
> 
> A warning, on this chapter there are moments where Laurent has to face memories from his past, a kind of PTS, triggered by meeting his Guardian who has abused him.
> 
> This is Fiction.

Meanwhile Damen’s somewhat larger contingent had set off from Lisle-sur-Tarn, the newly created Commune given him to govern by Raymond, Count of Toulouse, the main town was somewhat small, not yet fully populated so Raymond provided a billet and the soldiers needed to defend the area. Those soldiers were managed and governed by one of Raymond’s Captains, Damen lived just outside town on an estate which was part of family land. Life for him had barely changed, he carried out ceremonial duties but had yet to fully take over all the duties associated with being leader of the commune. In fact he was rather laid back about it all, he was used to being in charge of an estate, the commune was something writ larger in scale, the same issues were evident at the meetings he had attended, stolen land, stolen livestock, soldiers misbehaving, mis-selling and distribution of poorly made or fake items. He appointed someone to arbitrate on his behalf and retired to his estate. His capacity to help hindered by the fact of being leader of the commune; everyone thought he now had largesse to hand out at will. In fact he kept his personal life and the life of the commune very separate, and in doing so gained himself more enemies, individuals who were politically minded and wanted him to share out what Raymond had given him. He gave nothing away and set up a council which he chaired on a monthly basis, and let the council run the commune’s affairs. It was effective, the commune was not overrun in the Albigensian Crusade that followed, this cause was the reason he was going to Toulouse. Damen’s non-partisan running of the Commune was a blessing for the area, and in this way respect for him grew exponentially. His elder brother and former lover lived in Toulouse; he did not hope to see them. His mother and father were dead, so he had no one apart from Lykaios to worry about, all his valuable goods were locked up in storage in town protected by the soldiers, he left only the basic furniture and clothing on his estate. Everything of value had been transported to town. He set off with an easy heart, it was like taking a promenade through his land, greeting people that he knew were going to be important when he returned from Toulouse, people who were lesser nobles and therefore in feudal debt to him and therefore in feudal debt to Raymond. Help lay around him.

Nikandros warned him. Don’t take anything for granted. Evil only waits an opportunity. He smiled and told Nikandros, ‘Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof’, and not to look for trouble where none currently lay. This was another aspect of Damen that Nikandros side-eyed him for, he was an open person who would only deal with issues when they arose, he was good in emergencies and could not perceive dangers that might lay ahead, and could never plan for them. That is why he needed Nikandros and would take advice from no-one else. And for the same reason Nikandros would never leave his side, they were the brother neither had, complementary and understanding of each other’s nature. Nothing could part them.

They could not hide such a large contingent, so they chose to stay close if not on the main road and made very good time to Paulhac, crossing through the same wood where Laurent and his men had stopped.

‘I need to make water. I’m going to stop here, get the men to stop, we will have a break, if we continue at this pace we might make Toulouse by nightfall, the Mayor of the City is expecting us.’

Nikandros thought about this.

‘Let me come with you. It may not be safe.’

‘I know this country it is safe and I won’t be long, I’m just going over to that clearing, I might make full use of this stop…’

Damen rode off, he was not followed, the men were careful to maintain his dignity, a few wandered off to make their own toilet amongst the trees.

At the bottom of the clearing was a stream, Damen got off his horse and tied the reins to a tree trunk, making sure the horse was tied tightly as he did not want it to run off. Then he thought about having a dip in the stream, it was one in the afternoon, the sun sat low in the autumn sky, he was a little warm from riding, a quick dip would be soothing if the water was cold, he dipped his hand, yes the water was fresh, it was flowing, he tasted it, it was good. He took off his clothes and made his toilet up off the bank hiding in a thicket of bushes, stepped out and sat on a stone in a pool close to the bank, splashing himself with water. Laurent watched him. Took in everything about that the tall lithe muscled body, the olive coloured skin hinting at his Moorish grandmother captive from an early Crusade, the ass round and firm; Damen stood up and turned full frontal, Laurent swallowed nervously and blushed, no one could see his reaction, he looked around, good, his men had not followed him, so he allowed himself a gasp as Damen came towards him, and stood about 10 metres off, Damen’s body was muscled lightly, he carried no fat, his chest and dark nipples had no hair, a patch of unruly black hair wove around his dick which had shrunk in the cold water and shrunk again in the cool air, he twisted round to pick a stone or twig from under his foot, Laurent coloured again. It had been a long time, he took in his fill, the dick was thick, his own began stirring. He continued watching.

Damen was not conscious of anyone watching, he took in his surroundings stretching and taking some exercise in the brisk air. He was revelling in how his body felt; warm and yet cold. Damen felt alive, he had forgotten how good it was to be out in cool fresh air, the last two years had been spent in relative comfort, now he could smell the leaves, the water, the feral scent of the wood, moss, mould and decay and it was enlivening him.

Laurent felt a cold knife blade against his neck. A calm voice said.

‘Have you taken your fill of him?’

He was dragged up and marched out of the covering foliage he had laid in. He did not speak.

‘Who are you?’

Silence.

The hand at the back of neck tightened, it grasped onto his clothes, fabric was held tight around his throat. He struggled to make a noise, managed to gargle out a sound.

‘Let go. I cannot speak.’

By this time Damen had seen that Nikandros had somebody in his hands, he threw the man down. Except it wasn’t a man, neither a child.

Damen was not embarrassed by his nakedness, Laurent let his eyes fall, all the while perusing Damen’s body.

Laurent was hard and it was evident.

‘This pervert was watching you.’

‘Let him go. He is virtually a child.’ Damon turned his back and went to get his clothes.

Nikandros kicked Laurent’s ass.

‘Va te faire foutre.’

Laurent got up and ran.

He got to where his men were. Shouting as he arrived.

‘Get packed up, there’s another group of men here.’

The men looked at him and then at Jord who spoke.

‘How many?’

‘I don’t know and I don’t want to find out.’

‘Did you ask who they were? Did they say what they wanted?’

Laurent flushed again. Came to his senses. Realised he was panicking, wondered why he was panicking, his heart was racing, he couldn’t speak. He sat down. He turned honest tearful eyes onto Jord. Then bowed his head.

‘Can we go please?’

Jord chivvied the men. They were ready in fifteen minutes and out on the road. Damen and his men were nowhere in sight. Jord rode beside Laurent, he was very quiet, reserved almost. Jord kept an eye on him, this was unlike Laurent. He seemed to be lost in thought, something significant had happened down by the stream.

They marched briskly and arrived in Toulouse after five, after settling the men in another hostelry, Laurent went looking for Raymond’s men. He took Plum with him for protection, and also for company. He did not want to talk to Jord, he needed to keep the distance required to manage the men through Jord, he could not treat him like a friend, and he was in dire need of a friend now. Plum was closer to his age, he felt like he needed to talk, he could talk to Plum and he instinctively knew that Plum would be discreet and not repeat anything that was said between them.

His style of managing men was very different to Damen’s, both sets of men were loyal but for different reasons and Laurent’s control was more tentative, dependent on his position as their Lord and not through personal experience or guidance. They looked to Laurent in expectation of leadership, Damen had the love of his men, their respect and their allegiance. He was a commander of men and he was flawed, and he needed to be flawed in order for them to trust him, he showed that he was flawed, was not afraid to admit it and in turn the men loved him the more for it.

Laurent went to the town hall, they would know where Raymond was, he did not expect to see him there. There was only a warden.

‘The building is closed. It opens again at eight tomorrow morning, come back then.’

‘Surely you know where Count Raymond is?’

‘Come back at eight.’

The man gave a steely glare. Laurent turned on his heels, walked away into a nook in the next lane, Plum followed him. 

‘I think I know where to find out what is happening.’

Laurent was going to take a risk.

‘Come with me Plum, there is an evening meeting I would like to attend.’

It would not be hard to find a Cathar meeting place, they were not bold, and they did not hide, and Raymond did not control Toulouse, this was the problem, the Cathars walked about freely and promulgated their version of Catholicism easily. He knew which quarters were Cathar strongholds. There was one near. He set off in search of the house where the meeting was being held. He knew its name; he had learnt of several for when he could change allegiance and spread the Cathar word.

‘Do you go to church Plum?’

‘Not often. I go when Maman orders me to go. I don’t really believe in that stuff, it’s a way to make us behave, the gentry don’t follow the rules and the priests are hypocrites, they take our money and raise armies for fighting, I am only here because of you. You have been honest with us, and I can tell you have suffered at the hands of these charlatans.’

Laurent was quiet.

‘I have Plum. I can’t look back on what has happened…’

He could not say anymore. He was getting flashbacks, and the fear that he felt when first with his Guardian was somehow now tied to the images of Damen. He laid a hand on Plum’s arm, clutched onto it as a wave of memories flashed through his mind.

‘Wait, wait a moment…’

He bent over and threw up.

Plum brushed a hand over his back, he did not say anything and he kept his hand on his shoulder until Laurent rose.

‘Can you hold me please.’

Plum did. He extended to Laurent what he needed, comfort without intent.

‘Oi you two! Oi! Walk on! Get along with you!’ A man was shouting at them.

Plum raised his hand to man, held his ground and continued to hold Laurent.

‘Are you alright Laurent?’

The use of his familiar name would normally not be acceptable, Laurent was grateful, he knew that Plum cared for him and that he would revert to expected behaviour in any public arena. He had a friend he could trust, the very first person who wanted nothing from him because of who he was.

‘Yes Plum.’

Plum took his hand.

‘Come Laurent, it is time to go back.’

The closeness was noted, Laurent kept Plum close that evening and the next day took Plum with him to the Town Hall instead of Jord, there he managed to talk to an official who told him that Count Raymond was indeed away from town and was not expected back for at least a week, he had gone to see the Pope to defend himself, having been excommunicated for not maintaining a safe place for the Pope’s envoy, who had been killed whilst in Toulouse. Raymond’s grasp on power was beginning to edge away, that much was evident, for now he still held power and Laurent still owed him fealty. Laurent went back to the hostelry and tried to negotiate a cheaper rate, this time he took Jord. The hostel owner would not budge, Laurent paid for another night but the next day intended finding somewhere else for the men to stay. There were two options, find the nearest brigade and hand the men over or, ask them to camp out, he would need to buy or borrow a couple of tents, and he did not know who he might ask. There were people living in town who knew the family, formerly close friends of his father, they might help with land or an outhouse, but he still needed to maintain resources for his men, he had responsibility for them and would not abandon them. He would spend the next day visiting these family friends, it was clear that he could not sort out their sleeping arrangements in a day, so he paid for another night. The owner reduced the payment by a small amount, it allowed Laurent to buy the men breakfast. After he had broken his fast, he again got Plum with him and walked to a house further into the heart of Toulouse. The owner was a family friend, Charls, who had not seen his father in many years but remembered him with fondness. They had grown up in the countryside together and were presented at court together, Charls had moved to Toulouse shortly after his presentation, Aleron had gone to the family estate.

‘So, you are Aleron’s son.’

‘I am. I am very glad to see you. Your friendship is valued, he talks of you and the things you did often. So often that I can recite your favourite songs and poetry…’

‘I won’t test you. Would you like some refreshment? Christie, can you bring us a drink and sweetmeats please. Do you have any preferences Laurent? Will your servant take what we take?’

‘You are very kind and gracious, anything you wish to serve will be appreciated.’

The refreshments came, Laurent was courteous, and a courtly conversation followed where Charls in a roundabout way discussed the current situation and ascertained that Laurent was trustworthy and so at the end of the conversation he offered him the use of a barn on his farmland which was two miles out of Toulouse, he also offered Laurent and Plum a place in his one houses in town. Charls was a merchant, he had houses where he stored his goods, Plum and Laurent could use rooms which were currently empty, the disturbances meant that trade had slowed, the storage areas were not full, there was space. Charls thought he might turn his hand to materials for war, but he did not have the contacts or sufficient money, Laurent had contacts, the money he could borrow. He did not offer these things as an old friend to the family but for political advancement and for financial gain. Laurent’s family was high up the nobility, Charls could refuse if he did not have resources to host Laurent and his men, but he did have resources and if not now then certainly in future Laurent was beholden, and Laurent knew this, and accepted the offer. The men might not be entirely happy but the cost was no longer fully his. He had someone trustworthy in Plum. He was satisfied with the deal. He went immediately and told the men, Jord told him that one or two had begun muttering about staying in town and finding a job there rather than be what were effectively Laurent’s mercenaries, he advised that they needed to join up with Raymond very soon or risk the group disbanding. Laurent was somewhat disheartened, they had been on the road for less than a week, what would happen when they were required to fight or defend the City. For now the group stayed together, they had one more night in Toulouse and then they would split, the men and Jord to the Barn, Laurent and Plum to the town house. The next day they travelled as a group to the farmland, located the barn, let loose the horses in a neighbouring pasture and began to set up a temporary home. Laurent left his horse with the men, he would have no use for it town and Aimeric could keep it exercised, he was very affectionate with Hercules when he left him, giving him a hug and a pat before leaving the field where the horses had been pastured. He gathered up his few personal things, his sword and other fighting equipment, it would be long trek back it was over two miles plus a couple miles or so inside town, he changed his mind and went for his horse, he would pack his things and Plum’s on Hercules, walk him there and ride him back. He sent Plum on to prepare the rooms, sorted himself out and said a second goodbye.

Damen and his men arrived in Toulouse the same evening. He had a building ready and waiting for him with stables and rudimentary space for his men, they would have litters made of straw and linen and there was space for all their equipment. Damen may not have had a lot of cash but he had plenty of resources and one of these was property, he and Nikandros would stay in the adjoining building, which was also basic but at least he would have a room to himself and there was a hall come kitchen, where he could call the men together, the hall had two long bench type tables they could all eat at. In the courtyard was military training equipment; a small household contingent of a housekeeper, maid and man of all work, who had travelled down earlier, so the house, hostel and yard were ready for them as was hot food and water. The servants would return the next day as Damen and his men would keep house for themselves. Damen broke open a casket of the local wine, there were vineyards all around them so no need to go afar for wine or beer, the men sat down to good victuals and good company and looked forward to a sound sleep that night. Damen was itching, it was now four or five days since he had last had sex, his body began to remind him.

‘Nikandros, shall we go into town later?’

‘What for?’

He knew what for, he wanted Damen to keep his ass at home. It really was time he learnt to do without.

‘Might find a local inn, we could get us some good company.’

‘You have good company here, I’m not coming.’

Damen took the hint and shut up.

They gave the men the next day off, it was Sunday in any case, they would normally be resting, and they all had to go to church.

The next day, Laurent woke at six and went for a walk, he had no intention of going to church, he was walking around purely to find out where the Cathar meetings were being held. The Cathars wore insignia, their buildings normally had some kind of mark to show those who knew what to look for, where to come to worship. About two miles away and down and around from Charls’ house he found what he was looking for. From the outside a door into a small courtyard, a man on the gate with whom Laurent had a quick and intense conversation, he was let in, an unassuming house behind that.

‘Welcome my friend. Would you like something to drink? We have some water or mead cordial.’

‘No thank you, friend. When does the ceremony start?’

‘You are early, we will start at 8, come inside, rest. Do you have a bible? 

Laurent pulled out his handmade abbreviated bible. The man recognised it, although handmade it was a frequently used template, and the man knew that Laurent had read it many times.

‘Come, come, we have other things for you to read.’

Relieved, Laurent stepped through the doorway into a dining hall turned a modest church, at the back, a number of pamphlets and a few bibles. Reading and writing materials were expensive, there was not many items but what there was new and interesting to him, he picked up a few things and sat down in one of the chairs. This was food to him. He was very happy.

Damen also woke at six, he got up didn’t bother to wash, just drew on some clothes, picked up his sword and went out to practice. After an hour he was sweating, he sat down for ten minutes and started again.

‘Do you want some company?’ It was Stavos one of the men who shared leadership of his men.

‘Yes. I feel like a good workout, my head needs it.’

They practiced parries and attacks, concentrating on breaching weak points in armour, putting on some pieces of light training armour with gaps where in theory a sword might penetrate. Then they picked up two bec de corbin, spiked hammers on long pieces of wood essential for hooking and piercing men on foot or horseback, and drove at each other stopping short, their practice limited to prevent injury but it gave them strength and technique, muscle memory was important, they would not need to think how to manage weapons when under pressure in the battlefield or fight. Lastly they practiced close fighting, essentially wrestling with fake stones made out of cloth and wooden daggers. Damen was big but Stavos was bigger and pinned Damen down, who then had to concede when Stavos got him into a chokehold, Damen picked up a ‘stone’ and smashed him in the eye. It may have been fake, but Damen’s fist was doubled, and he smacked Stavos hard in the eye.

‘Sorry, sorry, sorry…’

‘No matter Sir, I know you fight fair…’

They both rose laughing because this was not true.

‘Shall we go and have breakfast?’ The other men had risen and gone to church. Damen and Stavos had ignored the calls for them to join them. It was a pleasant day, they got some cloths, dipped them into some buckets of water, a cursory wash and went on their way.

A few streets away was an Inn serving roasted ham, homemade soft cheese and bread, a local ale served alongside. It did not take long for them to attract attention. First the women serving, they were fine looking men in their prime, then some men looking to sell them something; all were waved away. Then Damen saw Laurent sitting in a corner, bible still in hand, a now cold plate of something in front of him. He kept staring, the boy was well, well…the way the light fell across his half hidden face, the sharp lines of his cheeks, a rosy hue across the cheek line, light coloured eyes, dark lashes contrasting blonde hair, his finely shaped body tied up in dark blue, laced across the chest, a soft linen undershirt visible at the delicate column of his neck, in one look he picked up everything about Laurent... his body began to stir in reaction. How had he missed all of this? Nervously took a bite of food to distract himself, coughed, swallowed the food down the wrong way, coughed it back up, took a drink, that stuck in his throat too, everything mixed to a lump in his throat, growing red in the face, heat flushing down his body, food and blood pushing downwards. Laurent looked up, and looked back down again, then looked up, they were staring at each other. Stavos looked from Damen to Laurent, and back again.

‘He’s pretty.’

Damen had no words, then found something to say.

‘Let’s go.’

‘Wait…I haven’t finished my ale…’ Stavos sucked down his drink. Damen was already out the door and walking determinedly down the street.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’

Stavos had a good idea what was wrong, he didn’t say anything, he laughed to himself, who would have thought it, his Lord taken with a young man.

When Laurent had looked up the second time, his face was burning a rosy red, eyes blazing, heart sounding in his ears. He felt alive, from across the room, the man was driving into him with his eyes, deep dark eyes, feeling and desire was very clear. Damen looking at him, and then gone. Laurent got up, throwing down some coins, quickly picked up his things and went out into the street, Damen and Stavos had disappeared. He stood still, smelling the air as if he could scent where they had gone, it was no good the men were nowhere to be seen.

Paul of Toulouse wasted no time. In Raymond’s absence he took control of Toulouse, marshalling a force of 1000 men, taking control of the local guard, making sure his orders were put into action on the entry points into the City. His spies ready to gather information about who was passing in an out of town. And he did it with the tacit approval of Raymond, who knew that he was likely to be excommunicated and therefore not able to reign over Toulouse, he needed a replacement he could trust, so he promoted Paul to a new role, Supervisor of the City of Toulouse. Paul put the Mayor of Toulouse in his debt by giving his son land granted by Raymond and set up a marriage with a daughter of a member of the nobility, added to which he had been stealthily working his way round councillors and senior merchants over the past year, promising them much for the future, professing his religion, castigating Raymond behind his back for allowing the Cathars to take hold and allowing them the licence to practice their fake religion. Above all he upheld the true religion, the Cathars were heathens and non-believers, they should be run out of town. Meanwhile everyone noted there were no women in his household and his constant companion was a sixteen-year-old boy who seemed wise beyond his years. The hypocrisy acknowledged, the power held sway. He called a meeting of the outlier forces, both Laurent and Damen were being drawn into his circle. In the meantime he summoned his former Ward to his house in town, having heard through merchant circles that the son of Aleron was now in town.

‘Laurent, it is most satisfying to see you grown and master of your force. You look very well; I would call you a man now. How pleasing it is to see you. How long is it since we last met?’

Laurent could not believe the calm effrontery of this man. He had entered the hall nervous but determined to hold his own, to not show any fear, and it was working for now. His voice was steady as he spoke.

‘Uncle, I am grateful for your kind words and hospitality, it is a very long time since I have seen you and I too am pleased to see you so well. How long have you been in town? Since I arrived I have not heard mention of your presence.’ He gave him an honorary nomenclature.

A door opened and a chocolate haired turquoise eyed teenager came into the room, he was beautiful.

‘Hello Laurent, you look very well. How nice it is to see you.’

‘Come Nicaise, sit here by my side.’

The other boy came and sat on a stool by Paul, he rested his arm on Paul’s leg. Paul swiped a finger across the boy’s mouth, the boy pulled the finger into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the digit, sucking with his plush mouth as it exited. Nicaise turned to look up at him smiled then turned to smile at Laurent, it was obscene.

An involuntary reaction, Laurent felt like he was going to be sick, bile rose into his mouth, all composure left him. He began to run hot and cold. His head was cloudy. Something beyond his comprehension came to save him.

‘Would you mind if I made use of your facilities?’

‘Do Laurent, come back here when you have completed your toilet, we will have some sweetmeats and other delicacies, my cooks remember what you like.’

There was a horrible curl to Paul’s mouth. Laurent turned sharply and quickly had to ask a servant on the other side of door where he should go.

Two doors down was the garderobe, he lifted the lid, it was clean, Laurent emptied his stomach. He closed the lid and sat down, he rolled up, his stomach churning, he was sick again. He did not go back into the hall but slipped out onto the street and ran straight into Damen, who glanced up and recognised the house he had just left. Laurent made to run off, and felt his wrist gripped.

‘Oi! Where are you going?’

‘Let go of me…’

Laurent writhed, trying to pull his arm out of Damen’s grasp.

‘Let me go…please…you…’

Damen pulled him into an alley by a little inn, used by the elderly and genteel ladies it did not sell alcohol. Laurent was retching, there was nothing left in his stomach.

‘Hold on, I am not going to harm you.’

Laurent started crying.

‘Please let me go…please.’ He was begging, disconsolate, lifting his arms, trying to cover his face.

‘No. Come here.’

Lauren’s body collapsed, he was falling. Damen pulled Laurent into his arms, he was sobbing. After a few moments, Damen spoke softly.

‘This is our third time of meeting isn’t it? I think you at least owe me your name.’

Laurent was still overcome with tears and rested his head against Damen. Damen let him take respite, then took his hand, large against Laurent’s delicate face and wiped away his tears.

‘Come on, let us take a seat in here.’

There was no-one else in the room, only three tables, Damen took them into the room as far as possible and called the serving woman over, she was the owner and as soon as she saw what was happening, started coo’ing and soft voiced offered a fine damp cloth, water and calming tisane. She brought these to them and left them alone, pulling across a curtain that made the space a private alcove, and provided these items as a courtesy extended to all.

‘I’m alright.’

Laurent was taking large gulps and trying to restore his own tranquillity. Damen let him sit.

‘You can leave me now. I’m OK. Leave me...’

‘I’m not going anywhere and nor are you.’ He got up.

‘Please bring us some soft bread and a little milk. Thanks.’

The tears continued to fall, Laurent had finally fallen apart. After all this time, he thought he had it dealt with…after all this time…why now…why…he placed his arms on the table rested his head and let the memories come flooding back, tears falling steadily, crying in full motion. In his mind he could see everything…the first time Paul had touched him, the very first time…the very last time…Nicaise…Nicaise on the stool…Grief engulfed him. Damen let him cry, then fed him some of the bread soaked in the milk. Eventually Laurent calmed, used the cloth again, and through red rimmed eyes and a coarse voice, he looked at Damen and said: ‘Thank You.’ Then the tears began to fall again.

‘Come, come with me.’

Damen helped him up and with an arm supporting him, paid the lady and took him out onto the street. By this time it was mid-afternoon, the strange time of day when no-one knows what to do, waiting for evening to come, still having things to do. As they walked down the street, they drew few glances. One person was supporting another, in these troubled times this was not strange, the sick, injured or downhearted often needed this kind of support. Damen got Laurent into his house, up onto his bed, and removed his shoes. Laurent laid down and those tears reduced to occasional water running out the corner of one eye, eventually he fell asleep. Damen sat in a large chair and watched him, darkness fell and as the evening fell Damen too fell asleep. He woke with a start, glanced over to the bed and saw that Laurent was still there, still asleep. He pulled the cover from under him, and wrapped him in it, Laurent grabbed hold of him and pulled him down onto the bed.

‘Don’t go…please…can you hold me…’

Damen laid beside him, Laurent rolled over and pressed his back against Damen’s chest, Damen opened his body and allowed Laurent to nestle in his hold. A few moments later Laurent was asleep again, and Damen followed him.

‘What the fuck!’

‘Shhh…he’s sleeping.’

‘What the hell is going on?’

‘I’ll tell you later, now fuck off.’

Plum came back to the merchant’s yard, Laurent wasn’t around. He wasn’t bothered, whilst in town Laurent had gone for walks, attended his secret meetings, or visited Charls, quite often not returning until quite late. Plum had begun to search out his own friends too and had struck a friendship with another servant at the local alehouse where he and Laurent would sometimes eat. He had also started a ‘friendship’ with a maid in the next house, and there were nights that he had begun to sneak out to visit; he liked this girl so he was spending time talking to her. He did not worry when Laurent did not return, and only became concerned when he did not return a second night. He wasn’t sure who to speak with and decided that his best option was Charls.

‘When did you last see him?’

‘Two days ago, on Tuesday, he was going to visit his former Guardian. You will have heard of him, Paul of Toulouse.’

Charls raised his head and stared steadily.

‘That pederast.’

Plum was taken aback. Then recalled how Laurent had broken down with him. He had not known what to make of it and had put it down to a young man’s emotional immaturity, now he knew the cause of Laurent’s behaviour and why he was as he was.

‘I mean I do not know the state of his relationship with Paul, forgive me I spoke out of turn. You said he was due to see him on Tuesday and he has still not returned.’

It was now Thursday afternoon.

‘I have given him a night and a day clear, I thought he might send a note. I have heard nothing. I didn’t know what to do. I don’t feel it is my place to go and ask that gentleman about my master.’

‘I will visit him. I’ll come back to you this evening and will let you know what I have found out. Keep to the house don’t leave town, when he returns he will need you. He has not gone away, and I don’t think he is harmed. He does not strike me as someone who is reckless or who will run away from his responsibilities. Do not worry I am sure he is safe.’

Laurent would not let Damen go, eventually Damen got up under great protest, and further tears. 

‘I have to get up and so do you.’

Laurent turned mute.

Damen got up, and left the room, visiting the garderobe he shared with Nikandros.

‘What do you think you are doing?’

‘Offering someone who is suffering a little respite. He is not a criminal or a political danger. He is clearly high born.’

‘You don’t know him from Adam. He could be a spy or someone who will try to blackmail you. You do remember that he was spying on you in that little wood?’

‘Yes, I know. There is something that has happened to him that has caused him to behave like this Nikandros, I can spare him some time to help. I won’t be keeping him here forever; I think a few days will begin to put him right. It is a Christian duty to help others in need of it. Now, can you fetch us both some food please, and can you bring out from our supplies those tisanes that were prepared to cool a temperament and some hot water so I can make him a cup to drink. Also some cool water and two cups, I think he is finally getting to stage where the tears and melancholy will stop. Please, and no more questions, at least for this time.’

Damen went back into his room and closed the door.

Laurent was awake and turned to the door when it opened.

‘Sorry…I am so sorry…I’ll go now…forgive me…I…’

‘No need to say sorry, I extend you only what I would expect for myself if I was ever so cast down. See if you can get up, take a seat here.’

He offered him the large chair, he had made it comfortable with paddings and heavy cloths. Laurent came over and sat in his lap. Damen lifted him off and set him on his feet.

‘That is not appropriate. Rest here.’

‘Please.’

‘What is your name?’

‘Laurent de Vere…Please.’

Laurent climbed onto Damen and Damen let him.

‘Is your father Aleron?’

‘Yes.’

Laurent began to nestle into Damen and hooked his arms around his neck. Damen was not comfortable, this behaviour was not right, especially as Laurent appeared to be not entirely conscious of his behaviour. It seemed that he was seeking as much physical contact as he could get, shifted and rolled his ass in Damen’s groin, a sexual move, Damen set him to one side of his body and did not chide him, he did not know what he was doing, it was natural and yet unnatural.

And Laurent began to talk, talked softly into Damen’s neck and he held on and he told his whole story and Damen was stunned. The way he clung and held on made sense.

‘I had to tell someone.’

Nikandros was knocking on the door and had been knocking for a while. The food and drink were sitting on the floor when Damen got up to look.

‘It’s spoiled.’

‘I don’t care, give it to me.’

Suddenly, Laurent was himself, a hungry bookish, boyish young man in his under things standing before Damen. Damen was nonplussed at the transformation. He watched silently as Laurent behaved as if everything was normal. It wasn’t.

‘I am going to stay tonight then I am going back to my lodgings. Sorry to have troubled you...’

He spoke as one who had not just confessed something terrible. Damen observed him and then wondered if NIkandros had not been right, not in that Laurent would take something from him that he did not want to give but that he had given him something he was not sure that he wanted. He wanted to know more, there was more that Laurent had not talked about, either because he did not know to tell or because the veil was not fully lifted. Against his better judgement he wanted to know more about this young man, something sang to him when he was in his presence and he felt that he could help him. Underlying the sadness, was a kind of raw hope and joy, he had a chance. Things were unresolved and resolvable, he felt it deep inside him, there was a chance.

‘Laurent, as I have already said, it is no trouble, I hope if I need similar help it will be forthcoming. Have you got sufficient food? Is there anything you wish for?’

Laurent seemed to recall what he had spoken of. His eyes turned truthful, and of trust hopeful.

‘Don’t tell anyone what I told you. This person has clasped my heart, I will not be free until one or the other of us is no longer living.’

‘Laurent, I promise you I will not repeat or divulge any of your story. You have entrusted me with it, it is not mine to reveal.’

And Damen knew that Paul, under his own honour code and his standing as an upright man, would have to be killed, he had laid hands on a child. There could be no exceptions to this rule, once known it was not something to be ignored and the action would have to be carried out to the best of his ability. He kept his counsel on this and knew only that he could wait, wait for an appropriate moment to carry out the deed.

‘What is your name?’

‘Damen de Akielos, though my family lands are based in Lisle sur Tarn.’

‘That is unusual. How came you by that name?’

‘It’s a long story…’

‘How old are you?’

‘Twenty-four.’

‘I’m seventeen. Do you have land?’

Damen looked at him as if he had two heads.

‘My family have a lot of land. We are vassals directly to Raymond of Toulouse, we also manage the Commune, well it is granted to us, we administer, Raymond provides the military support. You have not heard of my family.’

‘Yes…’

‘Why do you ask? Like yours we can trace our family back hundreds of years.’

‘Sometimes I don’t want to…anyway…’

‘…Where do you need to get back to?’

‘Saint Etienne. I was just visiting…’

Damen and his troop were based in Matabiau, it was around a two mile walk to Saint Etienne.

‘Are you married?’

Despite his bookish demeanour, the boy was bold.

‘No. I haven’t…’

‘No excuses. I just wanted to know if you were married. I want to see you again. Can I come back to see you?’

‘Of course you can Laurent, I would very much like to see you again. Shall I get one of my men to accompany you back tomorrow?’

‘No. You must do it.’

‘…OK…I need to make some arrangements…what time do you want to leave? You don’t need to return to Paul of Toulouse’s house?’

Laurent’s startled look confirmed everything he needed to know.

Laurent and Damen spent the rest of their time together chatting amiably, it was as if they were two new friends who had fallen upon someone they did not know they needed. Laurent behaved as if the previous days and nights had not happened. Damen tried to be neutral, one part of him watching one part participating, he had to admit he was protecting himself. He liked Laurent very much and he could tell that Laurent was beginning to trust him, he wondered if that trust was misguided. His liking was not entirely based on friendship, but he could wait, he had to, he was a person who did not assume a right. They kept to the room, only Nikandros knew what was going on, and Damen left it to him to explain why he had been absent. Nikandros told the truth, Damen had a new love and was busy right now. The men understood and forgave. Nikandros did not approve and made it clear that Damen should throw Laurent out, convinced that there was something not quite right with the young man, Damen agreed.

‘Clearly there is something in his history which is troubling him, of course this would make him not quite right…anyway we have already had this conversation. He is staying tonight and I will accompany him back to his lodgings tomorrow. Then I will spend some time with the men, I have been neglecting them.’

‘They know.’

‘Know what?’

‘That you are fucking that boy.’

‘Jesus. I am not fucking him.’

‘Yet…You will.’

Damen was silent.

‘I know you…You will fuck him.’

Charls sent a second message to Paul, he would like to discuss what is happening in Toulouse, he may be able to help with any resourcing that may be required, he has cloth and leather at his disposal and can make soldier’s uniforms as he has the best needlewomen and leather workers in his employ. He had learnt nothing about Laurent’s disappearance, but now a link was established. Paul is interested, interested as to why Charls might want to help now and interested because he did need those things. This also had the advantage, he was quite open, that he could be seen to support Raymond and the Vatican. Paul sent back word by return, let’s meet at the Town Hall two days hence, mid-morning, they would both be in town, no need to make a specific time to meet. Charls responded quickly, at your service my Lord. Charls did not trade with non-believers, anyone unscrupulous or dishonourable and had avoided Paul. The rumours emanating from his household and the nature of his entertainments, meant that Charls did not seek invitation, he was however a politician at heart, and made sure that he secured a place amongst the town councillors. He alone of the councillors had the support of all forms of the religious and they bought and traded with him, he was fair and he tithed regularly without any seeking of advantage, as a consequence, trade came to him, he was not cheap but his items were quality, even his basic cloth had a stamp of Charls’ quality control written all over it. Paul would take Charls’ goods if offered, even though he knew Charls despised him. He actually needed him to enhance his reputation.

Charls crossed the entry into the room, there was no-one else there, this was unusual normally Paul was careful to have either a scribe or other official with him at these meetings. He was wary.

‘How are you friend? ‘

‘I am well Paul, may I call you Paul or would you prefer some of form of address?’

‘Paul is more than acceptable, we are colleagues are we not? We sit at many tables together.’

But not at either’s home.

‘I did intend to ask you how you could support the cause. I know you are a God-Fearing man who does what he can to help us. The days grow very dark, and not just because of the time of year.’

It was true Autumn was passing into Winter, the nights were getting colder and the days short. There was hardly snow, but there was cold and rain, thick cloth was required, leather boots and shoes a necessity.

‘How does it go with his most Worshipful.’

Charls was referring to the Pope, he knew that Paul had news via Raymond.

‘Our Lord is restored and is returning. The Pope is pleased with the progress that Raymond has made in securing the town. He recognises that there is still much work to do. The Pope himself is in good health, he has managed a few days rest whilst the Cardinals dealt with day to day business and he has managed to bring together many of those who can help Raymond, he feels that the town is in good hands. He knows of you Charls, your good work is not going unnoticed.’

Even though Charls knew this was a lie, he harboured a wish that it might be true. Paul was just softening him up, he had to be on his guard.

‘We can be of help to each other, don’t you think Charls? The City is in need of your expertise and negotiation skills. You have built your business through your own capability and trustworthy character, you are well respected. We can use people like you. We need people like you. Have you considered taking up a wider role? I am sure Raymond could do with another envoy, he needs people to go out into the world to promulgate the cause and raise money. Would that be something that would interest you, there are licences from the Vatican for this type of thing? I can help should you be interested.’

Charls paused, the words were said so softly and without any intonation, just placed there with all kinds of connotation. Connotation that he was actually drawing, now he saw how people were beguiled, Paul played on the other people’s vanity and vulnerability, he saw how a hole could become a cavern in a susceptible person’s personality. He stood back, and objectively observed, he could see how a very young man might be coached into a behaviour that suited Paul without understanding the cost that was being placed upon him. Paul was an attractive man, in his late thirties he was older than most men that Laurent would have come across, he was distinguished and he carried his power well, his dress was austere but the cloth was expensive, colour and drape that could only be afforded by wealthy men. Charls had been to houses like Paul’s, heavy wood furniture, carved by the best craftsmen, painted walls, draping to hold heat in a room, heavy shutters to keep heat out or warmth in, soft padding on furniture and the best linen. Things to entice without shouting wealth. Like a victim drawn into a spider’s web, it would be too late before realising escape was not possible. Paul used everything to draw his victims in.

‘I think we can be of service to each other. I am happy with my place on the Council, I cannot spare more time to take on an Envoy role, the business will suffer. It depends on me being here in Toulouse, and I can be of better service to you here too. What you note is what makes me valuable to you. If I am on the council, I can support you and hold the line, I know my worth, I am more valuable to you here.’

Paul thought and rather more dangerous. His face gave nothing away.

‘We think alike Charls, I do need you here in Toulouse, your calm and steady presence is vital. Why don’t we move onto how your goods can serve the cause, you spoke about your leather goods…we need some shoes, can you either source or get some made? We will certainly need some decent footwear for the coming winter, lets discuss…’

The conversation moved on, it was a relief to them both, neither wanted to continue the conversation about the council and the role Charls should play, the wrong thing might be said, or a promise made that could not be kept. The important thing was that Charls had direct contact with Paul, he could work with that.

Laurent walked through the door to an empty space, he climbed the stair to the upper level, there were two rooms, one a living space with a curtained off section where Plum slept, the other a room where he slept. He walked between both, no Plum. There was no separate garderobe, he would have to go back downstairs, it was a simple little room only a wooden seat, a pail and some straw, he made a face but had to make use of it. He came out and looked about him, there were the rolls of cloth and sundry items, nothing had changed. He was hungry, climbed the stairs and looked in the hanging pantry to see if there was any bread or cheese, he was lucky there was but the bread was hard it was probably the bread from yesterday if not from the day before, in a bowl a soft cheese beginning to turn, it was ripe rather than gone off. He was hungry so he risked it, to make a sufficient meal he also ate a piece of dried beef, it was hard work to absorb but eventually he was satisfied, lit another candle. Read for a while and then sent to bed.

In the morning, he told Plum that he was going to visit the men, it had been a couple of weeks since he had left them at the barn. It was time to see how things were going, he wanted to be sure that the men were in good health and keeping to a training regime, he took a small pack with him, some things to wear and some food from town. He wanted to bring them something nice. He said nothing to Plum about where he had been or what he had been doing, excusing himself by merely saying that he had spent time with some Cathar friends. Plum noted his presence of mind and kept quiet, all would be revealed in time.

When he got there the men were still not rousted, they were milling around as if on some kind of holiday, no training stands had been set up, and no campfires were burning. He walked through them, they were wary but not concerned. When he went into the barn he was shocked, Jord and Aimeric were lying asleep, in the same bed. He was furious.

‘Get the fuck up.’

Jord jumped up but Aimeric turned an insolent eye, rolled over and pulled the cover over his obviously naked body.

Laurent went back outside.

‘Fetch the training gear’

He got the men into pairs and made them do sword work, and then work with staves of wood and makeshift hammers made from joining stones and stout sticks of wood. This he made them do for a couple of hours. Then he pulled Jord to one side.

‘What do you think you are doing? Where is Govart?’

Jord wiped his mouth, and swallowed, then took a step back.

‘Sorry.’

‘Sorry is not fucking good enough, what is going on?’

‘The men wanted a rest. I didn’t want to upset them.’

‘You didn’t want to upset them, so you started fucking Aimeric?’

‘I…I…’

‘Don’t give me any bullshit. Get the place cleaned up.’

By the end of day, the men were sulking but the site was tidy and there was food to be eaten.

Laurent called a meeting for the next day, Jord and Aimeric were made to sleep in separate beds, Govart appeared from nowhere, the band of men were now complete.

Breakfast was gruel and some simple bread made from flour, a small amount of yeast and water. Aimeric was now the camp cook, and he wasn’t bad. In fact he managed the men better than adequately, Laurent took note.

They sat in the barn, it was warmer than outside.

‘What are we trying to do here, what is the purpose of our journey?’

A lone voice came out of the group, Adric had spoken; he was normally quiet so what he said was listened to.

‘Laurent, you are our leader, it’s not that we won’t do what Jord tells us, but we look to you to guide us. It would help us and support us if you were here; if you cannot be here all the time, at least visit, once a week or so, or bring us into town. We want to serve you, we are grateful for what you have done and what you have promised us.’

Laurent then remembered his promise which was that by the end of whatever transpired he would make sure that they either had a skill they could take back or some money. He had needed reminding not only of this but of his duties, he had not been wasting time but he was neglectful. He would have to go begging, he did not have sufficient money to maintain the men and himself in town for longer than another month and so far he had heard nothing that meant that the men would be paid for their services by either the Town or by Raymond. He knew who he had to go to. Damen and Charls, and fall upon their help or mercy, at whatever cost.

He promised the men that he would make good on his promise, and that he would spend at least a day and a night with them regularly if not weekly. He would arrive early in the morning, and leave late the next afternoon to arrive back in Toulouse by evening of the same day. On this occasion he stayed another three days and returned to Toulouse on Friday. The men settled and Jord was back in charge, having promised to be more circumspect with regard to Aimeric. Laurent knew that as soon as he was gone, they would revert to sleeping together but he also asked Aimeric to behave and felt that they would at least be respectable in front of the other men. Govart he could do nothing about until all the men were back in town and being closely supervised. It was incoming market day and the city square was busy, animals, stalls being set up, there was cooking in the square, food was sold that evening and made in preparation for the next day, groups of men were standing around blazing braziers, on which rested nuts quickly roasting and birds hanging slow roasting, the air was filled with the scent of food, the feral smell of animals and butchered meat. In carts which would be locked away, was also butter and cheese brought in from the country, as well as grapes from local vineyards and the last of the fruit and nuts from orchards. Laurent’s mouth was watering, he wanted to celebrate something, except he had nothing to celebrate. He decided to thank Damen for his hospitality and bought sufficient food for himself, Damen and Nikandros. He also had some ulterior motives, one was to ask for help, the other was something he wanted to investigate. The food would be cold by the time he got to Damen’s house, but no matter it could be re-warmed over the fire or eaten cold whilst they sat by the fire it did not matter. As he approached he noticed that there were very few windows lit, in fact the only window with light was in Damen’s quarters. He rapped on the door making sure he could be heard, after a while single steps approached, the door opened and there stood Damen, wrapped tightly in a cloak.

‘Where are your men?’

Laurent didn’t wait for an answer, he slid his way through the door and went into the Hall, there was a roaring fire, the room was very warm.

‘It’s a bit warm.’ 

He set down his bag of goods.

‘Got any wine?’

‘Wine?’

‘Yes Wine. To go with the food.’

‘Should you be drinking?’

There was no answer.

‘Where do you keep things?’

Damen pulled his cloak tighter.

‘The men have the weekend off, most of them have gone down to the market, I expect they will be visiting taverns or bringing back something to eat nobody is going to cook this weekend. I decided to stay and rest. You got me out of bed.’

‘So we have the house to ourselves…Out of Bed? Why are you tired?’

‘Nikandros is still here.’

‘Got any trenchers.’

Damen shook his head, there was fresh bread, no old bread to serve as a plate, and in any case no one to use or eat the used slices of bread. Laurent pulled a meat pie from a cloth, some potted meat, a dish with cooked vegetables (that had cost him a lot of money because he needed the dish), a roast chicken, some fresh bread and some comfits, sugared nuts and seeds, He hadn’t eaten comfits in months so had to buy them.

‘This is too much food…we cannot eat all of this.’

‘It isn’t all for us…it’s for sharing…look, have you eaten?’

Now it was Damen’s turn to fall silent. He was hungry, Laurent had woken him, now he had food in sight, it must be time to eat.

‘Come on.’ He turned his back onto Laurent.

‘Have you got any clothes on?’

Laurent pulled at the cloak.

‘Stop it.’

Damen’s ass was on view, he pulled the cloak back round.

‘You slept in clothes when I was last here.’

‘I don’t normally…’

‘I don’t either…’

Damen seemed to stutter. Things fell out of his hands. He bent down to pick up the dropped platters, Laurent got behind him and stood very close.

‘Can I help with anything?’

‘No…’

Damen stood still, there was no room for him to move, sideboard in front of him, Laurent behind him.

‘Don’t…’

Laurent pressed himself groin to Damen’s ass. He was hard.

‘This is not appropriate.’

‘It is…’

‘You’re too young and I…look…I feel like if anything were to happen then I would be taking advantage of you…’

‘There’s a difference. I choose this. I want to do this…’

‘I don’t feel comfortable.’

‘I should be saying that…I am very comfortable with you Damen. You have been very kind to me.’

‘So you want to pay me back…’

‘No, the food is my thanks. This is something else. You make me feel comfortable. I feel safe with you.’

‘Well I don’t feel safe with you.’

Damen moved abruptly away, but Laurent did not give up. He changed tack.

‘Let’s eat. Have you got some wine? We need something to drink. Where’s Nikandros?’

‘I’m here, what do you want?’

‘Rude. Play nice Nikandros. He is our guest.’

‘He is your guest. He knows what he wants, and he is making quite clear how much.’

‘Well he is not going to get it.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it. He has a look about him.’

Nikandros turned and went towards the door.

‘I’m not playing gooseberry.’

Damen looked hard at Laurent, who merely smiled, the smile had a measure of determination, he did not get through the mess with his Guardian without fortitude. Damen was going to find out how solid and stable he could be because he was the first person that Laurent had felt safe enough to let go all his emotion. Even from their small amount of interaction he gained the confidence to see how he could begin to live his own life, one not dependent on what had happened to him in the past. When he saw Damen at the water’s edge, it put some things straight for him, the penny dropped, he’d stayed away from anything or anyone which opened his mind to a possibility of a relationship or even a close friendship, he was young, he did not have to be serious but he now knew what he preferred, what he wanted, he had never answered that question, had put it one side, as part of his way of dealing with what had happened. He remembered how on seeing Damen naked, his heart had stopped, his throat closed, almost in fear, scared of his reaction. Damen was a stranger he wasn’t sure if he was looking at him baldly as a piece of flesh or someone he was attracted to, the time spend looking at him made him realise, yes, he is attractive and he is attractive to me, and, however painfully gained he knew he knew what it took to please a lover. He paused, recognising the journey he was on. He could turn what he learnt to the good. All these thoughts had run through his mind as he lay watching Damen wash. The relief after the first night with Damen was tangible, indisputable and was worth holding onto, he felt safe and he now knew that being in someone’s arms could potentially be a source of true pleasure not just a physical happening. It meant he could not go back, he had to go forward.

Damen stood at the centre of his future, how far into that future he did not know, that didn’t matter, what he wanted to do was get him out of his system or maybe even make some kind of place for him so that he could investigate what he could mean to him, the potential of a good future. He wasn’t going to let him go. He had no-one else who he trusted, no one who held out some kind of promise, and this was the danger, he could not replace one dependency with another, and so was pleased with himself that he recognised that although he had some way to go, a way forward was writ large. Damen would not give in easily, he was susceptible to Laurent and Laurent knew it, more importantly Damen knew it too, and he was fighting it. The grip around Laurent’s heart was beginning to loosen.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurent and Damen discover the joy of each other, their relationship is being cemented. External worries are mostly put to one side.

‘Shall we eat at the table? Or take some food upstairs?’

‘I don’t like crumbs in bed.’

‘Crumbs are easily got rid of…other things are not…’

Laurent was staring intently, his intention clear. Damen held his gaze. Laurent broke the silence. Damen broke the gaze.

‘OK…food down here, other things to eat upstairs…’

Damen stood watching him, he was uncertain almost nervous. Laurent started taking food out of the packets and cutting pieces of pie into small pieces, breaking up the bread and scaping some of potted meat onto the soft segments of moist bread. He left the vegetables in their dish, Damen was right there was too much food, he kept the chicken in its waxed covering and wrapped it with a cloth. Took another cloth and wrapped the remaining pie also. The men might eat the leftovers for breakfast. He didn’t care if Damen ate breakfast or not so long as he was by his side.

‘Oh…I see dinner is ready, I’ve changed my mind…the gooseberry doesn’t have to be eaten, he can eat…the food looks good what else have you got?’

Damen finally went to get some alcohol. He needed it.

The dinner was lively, Laurent came somewhat out of himself, and after they had eaten he recited some poetry for Damen, words from a song of his region speaking of love and war, namely chansons de croisade; he had a high clear voice still young sounding but clearly that of a young man. The fire had died down a little and they were lazing on cushions, Laurent near Damen, Nikandros on a long armed, and comfortable wooden chair, softened by padding, feet covered in a throw. Damen had actually put on some clothes and some soft leather shoes, Laurent was in his normal leather shirt and linen undershirt, a pair of heavy cotton breeches and long custom-made boots, his tender feet sockless. Damen had thrown down a heavy damask cloth and brought down bed covers to make a soft floor covering he laid amongst the fabric, relaxed and enjoying the company of the two men in the room.

‘Another song please Laurent, your voice is very pleasing.’

‘I am going to leave you lovebirds…the gooseberry brambles are about to come out, and they are going to prick me.’

‘Fuck off then. Laurent another song, never mind that heathen.’

With Nikandros gone, Laurent was free to act upon his desire.

He moved over to Damen, lay down and began to softly sing the next song in the cycle; a song about two lovers parting, one lover was describing how much he would miss his lady love, except Laurent changed the gender. And he sung it soft so that only Damen could hear, and he put a hand on Damen and brushed his face and neck and stroked the hand down onto his chest and then onto his waist and held him, rolled forward and Damen laid his hand on Laurent’s waist, and they lay in each other’s arms. And Laurent carried on with his song, sung softly, breath on Damen’s neck and Damen was overcome. He pulled Laurent in and kissed him, a soft introductory kiss and Laurent umm’d and snuggled close. He did not want more, well he did but that was enough for now, he held off and got in tighter. He was held close and they started to drift off into sleep.

‘I think you should sleep in the small room, we don’t have to share, this is enough isn’t it? The bed is made…you will be able to go off to sleep quickly…there’s a fire up there…that room is next to mine you won’t be cold…shall we go up?’

Damen spoke softly, there was a question in everything he spoke, he was offering options.

‘OK…’ 

Laurent heard the questions but kept quiet, really he wanted to get in bed with Damen.

When he got into the room, Laurent rinsed his mouth, used a cloth to clean his teeth and spat in the commode, there was a bowl and some water, so he had a cursory wash, the day’s dirt was still on his body, the room was cool he did not want to get completely undressed, so stripped down to his undershorts. Climbed into the cold bed, rolled around, it was small, his feet were just on the edge, he could turn, there was not space to spread out. Damen’s bed was huge. There was room in Damen’s bed. After an hour he’d wound himself into anger. Why had he been so understanding? He just wanted to share, nothing was going to happen. This was stupid. Damen was stupid. Why was there even a question? He went out into the small corridor and tried the door to Damen’s chamber, the door was locked. He was a little stunned. The door was locked. He did not knock. He shouted. Damen had no right to lock him out.

‘What the fuck!’

Now Nikandros was yelling from his room, his door opened, he came out onto the corridor and went and banged on the door.

‘Damen! Damen! Open the fucking door so your boyfriend can get in. Open the fucking door.’

Meanwhile Laurent had continued yelling.

‘I want to come in! Open up! We don’t have to fuck. Let me in, I want to share your bed. You said I could share your bed. That bed is too small. You are being unreasonable. Open Up!’

Of course Damen had not said he could not share the bed. That did not matter to Laurent, he wanted to share Damen’s bed, he should have offered, not locked him out, he would teach him. The yelling got louder.

The household was beginning to stir. Someone was trying to open the internal door between the men’s quarters and the house. Steps could be heard, candlelight was reflecting up the wall from the bottom of the stairs.

‘Damen! Damen! Let me in!’

The door opened.

‘For Fuck’s Sake! Get in and shut the fuck up!’

Nikandros calmed Pallas. 

‘His boyfriend is staying over, they had a disagreement…’

‘Why are you behaving like this?’

‘I want to get into your bed Damen, it’s cold.’

Damen could not believe his ears. The quiet boy who barely spoke, and who had rejected him earlier had turned into someone possessed.

‘No need for cursing either. You should not have locked the door.’ He duly got into Damen’s bed.

Thinking it best to be calm, to act mature than react to this potential termagant in his bed, Damen climbed in after him.

Damen snapped. ‘If you think this kind of shit is going to work with me, think again.’

But Laurent had Damen’s mark. He recognised that really Damen did not know what he was allowed to do. Damen got in and turned away from him, Laurent sidled over and played big spoon, snaked his hand around and took hold of Damen’s cock. Damen stayed stock still, not sure what to do.

‘Oh...very quiet now…’

And Laurent started to stroke him. And Damen quickly grew hard, his hands were waiting for instruction, should he just lie there and accept this or should he try to caress Laurent, he went for the latter. Laurent pulled away, the hand still in contact with the cock, but clearly not wanting to be touched. When Damen imperceptibly moved slightly away, Laurent resumed stroking, Damen got close to coming.

‘Laurent…’

Damen was quiet when he came…he grunted his satisfaction, brought Laurent’s hand to his mouth and sucked upon his fingers, taking some of his own release into his body. Laurent watched him with wide eyes, amazed at his openness and carnality, in return Laurent licked his own hand clean, then kissed Damen, who groaned all the way through the kiss. Damen turned Laurent and pulled him in close, placed a leg over Laurent’s hip, his now softening cock resting in the flesh of Laurent’s yielding ass, he groaned again, made some soft sounds as he pressed into Laurent, then an arm came over and Laurent was enveloped and he did not mind, because this was what he sought. And they both went to sleep.

In the morning, Laurent woke to Damen’s mouth on his cock.

‘Get off, let me wash…’

‘I don’t care…’

‘Oh Damen…’

Laurent rolled on his side, facing Damen. He turned shy and closed up his body. He was used to giving not receiving.

‘You better get used to morning breath…and other things…’

Damen kissed his mouth gently, there was half a lemon, some ground up charcoal and salt, and small squares of very rough linen to clean their teeth, on the table by the side of the bed.

‘Clean your mouth…’

Laurent did…he had a similar morning routine. Once finished he spoke.

‘I need to use the commode… do you have any cloths?’

‘There should be some left, I’ve already been…you sleep very soundly…’

Laurent came back.

‘Do I smell?’

‘I don’t care, it’s natural. Come here, lie down.’

Laurent crawled back into the bed, he looked a little uncertain.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I want to suck your cock, lie down and shut up.’

Damen pushed a hand into Laurent’s shorts and with the other hooked under Laurent’s head began to simultaneously kiss and rub Laurent, he was laying half on and half off Laurent. He let go of the cock and began to kiss Laurent fervently, rolled onto of him and pressed his tongue deep into Laurent’s mouth. He raised his head.

‘Is this too much? Is this alright?’

‘Yes. It’s OK.’

‘Don’t you like it?’ Damen rolled off Laurent.’

‘I do. It’s…I’m…I’m not used to this Damen…I…’

‘It’s OK Laurent, we can stop if you want…you must tell me if I make you feel uncomfortable. I meant to ask you if you were OK last night.’

Damen sat up. ‘Let’s talk.’

‘I don’t want to talk Damen. I want you to kiss me, please.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes…I might seem like I don’t like it…but I do…you are my…first…you know…’

‘I know Laurent…I want to make things nice for you…if I forget…I mean…get carried away…you have to tell me…we don’t have to do this…we can get up and have something to eat…’

‘Damen, I want you to kiss me…’

Damen lay back down, laid on Laurent and kissed him. His mouth gently brushed Laurent’s, he tested a tongue, just resting a tip on the centre of Laurent’s mouth. Laurent paused and tentatively opened, the tip of his tongue just touching Damen’s, Damen made a soft noise in the back of his throat and surged forward covering Laurent’s mouth fully with his own, developing the kiss, filling Laurent’s space with his whole body, his arms were wrapped around Laurent, legs split so that he straddled him lying down, he pressed his hips down, Damen was hard, Laurent wasn’t.

Damen said nothing, he pressed gentle kisses on Laurent’s lips and down his jaw, raising his body he began to lick his way down, sucked a nipple which rose, used his tongue to tease it, a hand slipped down and held Laurent’s ass, he began to squeeze and pull, covered him again and kissed him again. This time Laurent began to relax, his body softened, the legs came apart involuntarily, his cock was growing hard, Damen slid down further between his legs and gently took Laurent into his mouth, kissed his cock, rested the head in his mouth, gently pulled on it with his mouth, nipped it with his teeth.

‘Is this OK Laurent, if you don’t like it tell me…’

He went back to business. Laurent was silent, and then in the silence of the room there came a soft sound, breathy raspy in the back of his mouth, Damen sucked again, used a hand to firmly grasp and turn, the other to caress his body, again the sound, followed by a moan, Damen sucked harder, a sharp intake of breath came from above. The cock was now very hard. Laurent grabbed hold of his hair, Damen began sucking and licking in earnest and Laurent gripped, pulling rhythmically moaning louder, followed by groaning and mewling.

‘If you grip my head so tightly I cannot suck you, you fucker, and it hurts…’

‘Sorry…’

Laurent let go. Damen latched on again and Laurent grabbed hold of his hair again. Damen was resigned, his potential boyfriend liked to pull hair and was actually very vocal in bed. He would know exactly where he was with him. Except he did not get fair warning of how close Laurent was to orgasm, there were physical signs, the hair was let go, Laurent pressed his ass into the bed opened his legs further and his cock spurted into Damen’s mouth. A hot hard cock pumping. A lot. For a while. It had been a long time.

Laurent lay back, arms above his head, enjoying his body, he pushed Damen off him the better to enjoy the sensations which were running through his ass and up his back, the orgasm making his whole body jump. Damen watched, and wanted to suck him dry then soft, he liked how Laurent tasted, he tried to get back to the cock.

‘Get off.’

Damen didn’t mind, he had enjoyed seeing Laurent coming apart, he’d done what he set out to do.

‘This is Laurent de Vere.’

Nikandros took notice, he gave him his full name. the men noted as well, they were correspondently polite, offering up good mornings, Welcome Sirs, greetings which acknowledged Damen’s in tone.

‘I normally have a simple breakfast with the men. What would you like?’

‘There’s the leftover food, I’ll fetch it Damen.’

The quiet studious young man had returned. He looked as though butter would not melt in his mouth. Laurent turned away and went to get the food.

‘Is he alright Sir?’

‘Yes, he’s just…well…he’s reserved.’

‘You know what they say about the quiet ones…especially when they yell at night.’

Slid out of Nikandros’ mouth.

Damen smirked.

Laurent had a simple breakfast and returned to the merchant’s house. Plum had just finished his breakfast and was washing the utensils. 

‘Glad to have you back Laurent. How are my colleagues?’

Laurent gave him a brief breakdown of what he had found, Plum laughed heartily, and said he thought Jord was fond of Aimeric, and that Aimeric was a flirt, someone was going to fuck him and it might as well be Jord, noting that both were attractive in their differing ways. He wanted more gossip, but Laurent stopped him.

‘I only have sufficient money to cover bringing the men to town for a month, I can’t afford to keep them in town Plum. I have to find some money, I’m going to ask Charls for help.’

‘Oh…I thought your father had given you more money…’

‘He thought Paul would be in town and take the men on immediately. That reminds me…’ He owed his father a note, he had not been in touch since he arrived in town.

‘Plum, I need to talk to you…’

Plum could tell there was a second serious thing.

‘I am not Catholic.’

Plum wondered why he had told him.

‘I don’t really care, it takes more than being a Catholic to be good. You are a good person Laurent.’

Plum had given him the courage to speak.

‘I’ve been studying…I have been attending some groups…’

‘You mean Cathars…I know Laurent, you haven’t been very discreet, you leave your pamphlets lying around and you have been to ‘church’ at odd times of the day…like you want to be found out.’

‘Do you think the men will come with me if I ask them?’

‘No. They are traditional men, they come from the country, they do not understand anything sophisticated or different. I’ve been reading some of your leaflets…well, you haven’t been around and I had to have something to do…I like the ideas. They make sense to me…man is prone to error, we are trapped here and do wrong, but we carry good elements within us, things that can save us, somewhere there must a good version of us, if we are good then we can finally be happy…that spark of joy is Godly, our God or good on the mortal earth, that’s fundamentally it, eh Laurent?’

‘Well it may not be as simple as that Plum, but at least I have an explanation for some of the behaviour I witness. Catholicism cannot explain what happened to me…but I am learning to put that away, my world is changing Plum and I want to keep you in it.’

Plum looked at him.

‘What happened to you…I mean, something has happened while we have been here, hasn’t it?

Laurent flushed red and said nothing. The colour left his face and he set a very firm lip. Plum noted. Something had indeed changed.

‘The men will follow me Plum, they trust me, and I will not let them down.’

The boy rapped on the door. Nikandros grumbling came to the door, the weather blew in cold.

‘What do you want?’

‘Is Damen de Akielos at home?’

‘What do you want?’

‘I have been sent here, I have a message for him.’

‘Give the message to me, I am his steward, I will see that he gets the message, give it to me.’

‘I am under strict instruction Sir, I can only pass it to Damen de Akielos.’

‘I am Damen de Akielos, give me the message.’

‘You are not Sir, I have been given details of his appearance and you just told me you are not he.’

‘Who is it Nikandros?’ 

Damen came to the door, he too felt the cold.

‘Bring the boy in, it’s cold.’

‘You do not know who he is.’

‘He is a child, bring him in.’

The boy got on one knee.

‘Sir, I am charged to request your company at Monsieur Charls, Rue St Jacques in St Etienne.’

‘What! My little man, I have no intention of leaving my house at this hour to go to a house that I do not know in a place that is also unknown. It will take me nearly an hour to get there and nearly an hour back and it is nearly eight. No Sir, I will not take up this request.’

‘Monsieur Laurent requests your company tonight.’

Now Damen was stuck. He wanted to fucking go. Nikandros was laughing under his hands, his face was turned away but Damen knew him, he was laughing at him.

‘What else did Monsieur Laurent have to say.’

‘He said I was to wait for your answer, if you were not coming you should give a note for him and he said that he will come to see you tomorrow evening.’

‘What if I do not want to go or don’t want him to come.’

The boy stood there bland faced and said nothing. They stared each other out.

Nikandros broke the silence.

‘Since he has been gone you have been slinking around the place not concentrating, and you are terse with the men. They have noticed how are you are and are whispering behind your back about the silver haired wraith. The silver haired boy who does not speak, and who has taken away your silvery tongue. Why punish yourself? Look, I can see to the men if you want to go. Just be back by Friday, the weekends can’t always be unstructured, you need to be here for Saturday morning, and you need to go to Church you haven’t been for two weeks.’

‘I’m coming. Let me get my things.’

‘You won’t need any clothes…’

Damen had a form of words in his mouth but kept them to himself in front of the boy. He turned and went to get his purse, fished out some coins and gave them to the boy.

‘Where do you live’

‘At Monsieur Charls, I am one of his servants. He was with Monsieur Laurent today.’

This got Damen’s attention.

‘What were they discussing?’

The boy turned dumb, he was not stupid. He cutely smiled and said:

‘You had best leave soon Sir, the nightly curfew will fall soon. Goodnight.’ The boy was self-possessed, he let himself out and his running steps followed him into the distance.

‘I’ll be back for the Saturday morning drills, keep to the normal routine Nikandros. I have to go.’

Damen knew that he had his work cut out to reach the house before the curfew was strictly enforced. He set off at a leisurely run, he was fit, he managed to run halfway there before slowing to a walk, he reached the street as lights were being put out and shutters firmly closed. He knocked on the first door, it did not open someone spoke close to the opening of the door.

‘Who is it?’

‘I am looking for Charls’ house.’

‘He is next door.’

Damen walked to the next house, it did not look entirely like a residential house, the lower floor shutters were shut tight, the doors into the house were huge, a merchant’s house, partly used for storage. He rapped very hard, he wasn’t sure if there was anyone downstairs. A few moments later the door opened a crack, a tall attractive young man put his head round the door and spoke.

‘Good Evening Sir, how can I help you?’

‘I am looking for Laurent de Vere, does he stay here?’

‘Who am I speaking with?’ Plum opened the door and stood in it, he was not as tall as Damen, but he was near his size.

Damen took note this young man was prepossessed, he liked him; he would make a good companion, he was composed, fit, and very attractive. Damen was a man who liked and preferred women, but he would not deny himself the delight of a sexually attractive man. Plum was one thing, Laurent went beyond sexual attraction, Laurent meant something to him. He had called and Damen came running. His second reaction was jealousy, did this young man help Laurent in other ways? Ways that he had only just started to experience? His squeezed his eyes at Plum and Plum noted it and understood now what had changed for Laurent.

‘Damen de Akielos. Laurent de Vere requested my company tonight.’

‘It is very late Sir…for visiting…the curfew is about to fall.’ He inferred something in the word visiting.

‘It’s fine, Plum, I did invite him. Let him in.’

Plum opened the door, looked from one to the other and back again, stepped away and looked Damen up and down as he came through. He had to cede; Damen’s body practically hummed sexual tones. He looked across to Laurent, who was regarding them both very evenly, Plum with resignation and Damen like, well, trying to effect nonchalance and failing.

‘Plum, can you fetch us some brandy and warm water.’

Plum looked at him, where was he going to get warm water, there was none boiled, they washed at night in cool water, that is water that had been sitting near the fire.

‘Yes Sir, shall I bring it your room?’

Plum looked Laurent straight in eye.

‘Yes. Look don’t worry about the water, just bring the brandy and some cloths for Damen please. And then you can go to bed Plum, thank you.’

Plum exited, all but muttering a measure of disapproval.

‘Hello’

Laurent looked shyly at Damen once Plum was out of the room.

‘How does he service you?’

‘I beg your pardon.’

‘What is his role?’

Laurent caught on. Went up to him and hooked his arms around Damen’s neck, Damen tried to pull them off, Laurent held tightly on.

‘He’

Kiss.

‘Is’

Kiss.

‘My’

Kiss

‘Groom. He is a former farm hand, intelligent, a former farm hand. And he likes girls.’

And he tried to climb Damen.

‘Get off. You can’t get around me like that. Behave yourself. He will be back shortly.’

‘I don’t care.’

Laurent had managed to bring one leg around Damen’s body, Damen gave in and placed his hands under Laurent’s ass, breathed deep and lifted him, Laurent lifted his legs around Damen’s waist, and then Damen dipped Laurent so their bodies aligned crotch to crotch.

Laurent got off him.

‘I want to talk to you.’

Damen wondered if he had done wrong.

‘Have you heard anything from Paul de Toulouse?’

Damen was enamoured but he had to clear his head quickly, he did not know how Laurent saw Paul. He knew what he wanted to do to Paul and had to keep that to himself because regardless of what Laurent thought or wanted, Damen knew what he had to do. Laurent seemed to have told him everything, that did not mean that he saw Paul in the same way that Damen did, that talk together might just have been Laurent getting something out of his system. It might not even be true…then he felt bad and he knew it was true. Laurent had shown him that it was true, why was he like this tonight? He needed to approach this calmly. Plum came back into the room, hands full of glasses, bottles and cloths of all kinds.

‘Do you want me to take this upstairs?’

‘Yes please Plum.

Plum did not acknowledge Damen. And Damen understood how it looked, late night visits, not even the courtesy of a polite conversation or genteel conversation over a meal, no, Damen had turned up and there was an assumption that he would go straight to Laurent’s chamber. His young master deserved better, and he was making it known that it was not acceptable, as he turned to go upstairs, he caught Damen’s eye and gave him a filthy look.

‘Your servant is giving me the evil eye.’

‘He’s jealous like you.’

‘Why the fuck would he be jealous?’

If Plum was fucking Laurent, then he would have to go. There was not room for two.

Laurent turned, walked past Damen and followed Plum upstairs. Damen was falling into anger, he could see what was happening but he had no control. He was in Laurent’s home, at Laurent’s behest and he could not easily return to his abode that night, he was effectively stuck.

When Laurent reached halfway up the stairs, he turned his pretty head, blond hair swinging, blue eyes shining even in low light and said:

‘I can share my chamber with Plum if you are going to sulk. He would not deny me.’ 

Damen was wild.

‘The fuck he will.’ He virtually leapt onto the step where Laurent was standing, got hold of him and began to kiss him, very deeply no preliminaries, his hands clutched Lauren’s ass. Laurent gave in to him, kissing him back, his hands everywhere, all over Damen.

‘You OK now?’

It was Laurent’s turn to reassure. He held onto him and was stroking his back.

‘No. Now I want to take you to bed. Feel.’ 

He took Laurent’s right hand and gently placed it on his cock, Laurent stroked it.

He whispered: ‘Shall I suck it for you Damen, would that help?’

The cock grew in his hand, he kept stoking, Damen opened his legs a little, Laurent let go of the cock and grabbed his balls, pulled at them gently, the cock stood up. Damen groaned and muttered.

‘Oh Fuck.’.

Plum had just entered the room, he paused at the sound and turned around. Laurent carried on squeezing and stroking.

A soft sigh, then a grunt.

Damen adjusted himself, he gave Plum a sly look. Plum looked into his face, keeping his own straight.

‘I take it I will see you again Sir. Will you be wanting breakfast?’

Laurent snickered and nodded, he gave Damen a closed mouth kiss.

Plum deposited all he had in his hand, went to his bed and slept.

‘I have a proposition for you.’

‘Really? It can wait.’

‘No. It can’t, you might think I am taking advantage of you if I tell you afterwards.’

Damen was caught in a haze of lust, all he heard was afterwards.

‘We are going to tell each other the truth, aren’t we?’

That woke him out of the haze.

Now Damen was on his guard. He rose from the bed and pulled on his shirt, he was still wearing some breeches, the shoes had already gone. He found some kind of covering and sat in a chair by the fire.

‘Go on.’

‘I don’t have any money.’

‘I know. What do you want? Give me everything.’

Lauren sat crossed legged on the bed, he had the coverlet wrapped around him. He knew he had to be completely honest with Damen.

‘Our property is ours, but we are bon pauvre, we have heritage but no money. We do the best we can with the land and people we have but it is not enough we do not have enough men to tend the land so half of it is fallow. We have had to take men off the land to provide Paul’s aid, we have already sent ten men, this is the second group and then we will have met our obligation. The men come willingly, loyal because their families have worked for ours for many years, in some instances for three or four generations. They go where we send them, and they follow their fathers. Plum’s father worked for my father, they fought together many years and when Plum’s father died in his service, my father kept both him, as a boy and his mother. His mother does some light field work and helps in the house. 

I am well educated and have studied my books Damen, I hoped to become either a teacher or a priest. That is what I am best at, studying, learning texts and reciting them. I sung at school and I continue now. Mostly to myself, sometimes at church. My Guardian made sure I continued my schooling, and he provided me with books, the like of which are not seen often. I learnt how to draw and script from them, I can make my own books...’

He trailed off.

‘Can you take my men?’

Damen was thinking as Laurent had been speaking, he had worked out that Laurent needed help with the men. It is one thing to lead a group of men on your father’s estate it is another to make them into a band of men who will defend a town and stick together in dangerous times. He had the experience, Laurent did not. It was not that Laurent could not fight, simply that he had never had to. The men would follow him, but they did not believe in him. He would be able to get them to Toulouse and into Paul’s service. He could do that for him, but he would not take the men. The promise had been made to Paul, he would not interfere in the de Vere’s feudal obligations. He would be on hand to help him and he would stand beside him to support him, but the men really belonged to Paul, he would help get them to Paul.

‘No, I can’t. We are both headed to the same place, to fight on behalf of the cause to support the church. Paul asked for those men, he has to take them and provide for them. We need to talk to Charls, and we have to get a message to Paul, he has to make himself visible in Toulouse he cannot continue to slide around town. We are not the only ones who came on a promise, if he does not make good on his responsibilities then we have no option but to take our men away, back home. And he needs to know that. At the moment he believes that the patronage of Raymond of Toulouse protects him. He is wrong. He is a whisker away from losing control and I don’t think he realises it.’

Laurent’s story is not new to him, he wonders if Laurent realises what he needs to do. If need be he has to cut loose the men, let them find their own way to Paul. He cannot afford to keep them, and the men will eventually take themselves off into some new adventure if not utilised in the way in which they were originally intended. He will not be able to keep them together anyway. If they decide to stay under Laurent’s leadership, then they needed to find ways of supporting themselves financially, it was possible.

‘I’m not Catholic.’

‘Laurent don’t try my patience. You cannot fight on Raymond’s side and be a heathen.’

‘I am not a heathen; I just don’t believe in Catholic religious theory.’

‘Let me repeat myself you cannot fight on behalf of the cause and be a heathen.’

‘I am a Cathar.’

Damen let off a stream of curses.

He got up and started dressing.

‘Are you crazy?’

‘No. Where are you going?’

‘Home, or at least to my lodgings.’

‘Sit down Damen.’

‘What!’

‘Sit down.

Laurent began to undress.

‘I have told you everything now. You can tell me everything about yourself now…or we can wait until morning. I don’t need to get back to my men until Saturday morning. We can spend time together until then. You have me all tonight all of tomorrow and all of tomorrow night.’

By now Laurent was naked and spread-eagled on the bed. Damen stopped dressing and was staring. Then Laurent laid on the bed on his side, legs akimbo, Damen could see everything, and he did not know what to do. Laurent turned onto his back and brought his knees up and open, different view and everything visible.

‘Oh fuck…’

Laurent laid there watching him, head on bolster, arm behind his head, it was a picture, it was a stand-off.

‘Not going to lie Damen, I want to fuck you. I have wanted to fuck you ever since I saw you in the water. Come here.’

Damen was bereft, he did not know why they were arguing, a small voice in his brain was telling him he should go, leave the room and sleep somewhere else. The larger voice was contradicting this, dominating him and telling him not to go.

‘I am not going to have sex with you.’

‘OK.’

Laurent got up and put his undershorts back on and crept into bed. He held the cover up.

‘Come on then…’

When Plum came in the next morning Damen had Laurent enveloped in a bear hug. Laurent heard him come in, they caught eyes, Laurent winked and Plum put the tray down, then quietly gathered the debris from the night before. He did a little tidying and left, Damen remained fast asleep, or appeared to.

‘Has he gone?’

‘Yes’ Laurent replied.

‘He hates me.’

‘He doesn’t hate you. He just doesn’t know you.

‘He acts like he is your boyfriend.’

Laurent laughed. He turned round.

‘Where were we?’

‘Laurent…’

Laurent lifted his leg and put it over Damen. Damen stayed still. Laurent straddled him, his hands on Damen’s chest. They locked eyes, Damen nodded, he would let Laurent do as he wished.

Laurent stroked and caressed Damen’s chest, he dipped his head and took a nipple in his mouth, noisily tasting it, murmuring his pleasure, Damen began to relax there was no point in remaining tense, they would both enjoy it better. His hand involuntarily moved to take Laurent’s head off the nipple and onto his mouth, the hand got very close to the head. He laid it back down by his side.

‘What would you like Damen, I feel like you need something, you have to tell me what you like.’

‘This is alright.’

‘No it’s not. At some point you are going to have to take what you want.’

‘You don’t want me to touch you.’

‘I know.’

‘It’s off-putting.’

‘You just have to deal with it. Now kiss me.’

Damen kissed him and ran a hand down his back, the hand drifted further down on his ass and began stroke, Damen turned him so that he was able to reach both hands down one carried on stroking, a finger investigated the tender flesh between his ass cheeks and started to press down, down and found his hole and gently began to feel the folds of his rim then pressed inside. Laurent was silent but his breath was gathering pace and as before, he could not help the sounds that began to escape him, a gentle hum which reached down into his throat to combine with deep breaths like a tickle in his throat and sensual hic hics were forthcoming. He rolled on his back and opened his legs, opened his eyes and invited Damen to take advantage of his body. Damen rolled on top of him and began to kiss him, placing himself firmly on top Laurent’s smaller body which melted below him, Damen wrapped his arms around him rolling him around the bed so that he could kiss him deeply and resume fingering him. After a while, Laurent spoke.

‘Wait a moment.’

He got up and went to the door, naked.

‘Plum! Plum!’

When Plum appeared at the door, he held his eyes straight, not wishing to view the obvious, Damen had turned away from the door but Laurent hid nothing.

‘Have you got any olive oil?’

Plum nearly asked him what he wanted it for, the question flashed across his face and the answer followed immediately. He nodded and went off to find some.

‘When you find some, just knock and bring it in.’

‘You can resume, he’ll bring it.’

‘Don’t you have any shame?’

‘No. Not when I am feeling like this.’

Laurent laid back on the bed.

‘Resume.’

Some fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

‘Wait Laurent…’

‘Come in...’

Laurent had Damen’s dick in his hand, Damen pulled up the cover, but his state was very obvious. Plum was not embarrassed and he handed the oil to Laurent, whilst maintaining eye contact with Damen.

‘Don’t fucking hurt him.’

‘That’s enough Plum…’

Plum left the room, smirking when he turned.

Laurent poured a small amount of oil in his hand and swiped Damen’s cock, Damen shuddered with pleasure.

‘Might need to wash these bedclothes…let me get a cloth. It’s too cold to be washing the linen constantly.’

‘This is fucking embarrassing.’

‘You are not home with all your fancy servants, we have to be practical. Stand up.’

Damen was wide eyed with lust, his cock was hard and leaking. Laurent took hold of it again and began to stroke it vigorously, Damen stayed his hand and turned him round.

Damen pressed his ass open and opened his legs with a foot, he knelt and pressed his face into Laurent’s body, his tongue licking the flesh where previously his fingers had caressed and entered. He pressed his tongue into Laurent, whose moans were turning in soft groans, bending to allow Damen’s tongue to enter him more deeply

‘Quiet Laurent.’

‘I can’t, that feels so good.’

‘shh…shhh…love how you smell…ha…ha…ha…shh…shh…you taste like earth…’ 

Damen mixed soft laughter with the words. Laurent was variously writhing, bending over and lifting legs. Damen felt something like joy giving so much pleasure to Laurent.

Damen resumed licking him, he let a long slide of saliva run down Laurent’s hole and then licked it up. Laurent was moaning and making soft sounds which increased in volume at each downward swipe. Damen stood and pressed a finger down into the hole, the other hand stole through and started pulling at Laurent’s cock.

‘You are a good size, a proper handful.’ He grunted. Laurent realised grunting was good.

Damen licked Laurent neck and started to suck on and kiss his tender neck, he raised the stroking hand to Laurent’s hair moved it out of the way, it fell back, he stepped back and looked around the room, pulled a lace from a shirt and tied Laurent’s hair, then resumed sucking a mark on his neck, whilst his hands went to work. He walked Laurent to the back of the chair and pressed him down, grasping him by the waist to steady himself and took his dick into his other hand, pressing it gently into Laurent’s ass and stroked the head up and down, when he reached Laurent’s hole, he pointed it with intent into the yielding flesh. Laurent had turned quiet again.

‘Are you OK with this?’

‘Hmm...yes…Damen…please…’

‘Please? What do you want Laurent?’

Laurent turned his head and his body and kissed Damen.

‘Don’t keep me waiting any longer Damen, you know what I want, I am not going to beg you.’

Damen took a little more oil and pressed a fingerful into Laurent, swiping the rest on his cock.

Laurent turned forward and pressed backwards onto Damen’s cock. Damen held the cock and let Laurent determine how much he could take. Laurent steadied himself and held himself ready, waiting. Damen gave him what he wanted and pressed fully inside.

‘Merde…’

Laurent held still, then began to stroke his own cock, savouring the feeling of having Damen inside him and the electric charge of stroking. 

‘Oh my god…’

Again Damen stilled his hand.

A steady volume of joint muttering and murmuring rose as Damen began to gently fuck him and then as his own urgency grew, the fucking continued with increasing rhythm and intensity, after a while their sounds combined as they both rushed to orgasm.

Afterwards Damen took the cloth Laurent had laid on the bed and cleaned them both. They got back into bed. It was mid-morning, it felt decadent, a weekday made for loving.

There was another knock on the door.

Plum entered with their breakfast.

‘How did you know…?’

Damen looked at Laurent and then at Plum and smiled.

‘How could he not know Laurent?’

Laurent flushed, his ass was gently and pleasantly burning, he wriggled it against Damen’s cock.

‘…Plum can you bring a cold compress.’

‘Of course Laurent.’

He turned and left the room.

Laurent had paid Damen back.

‘Do you have to be so obvious?’

‘You are not so small yourself…I am not complaining…it feels nice…that compress is going to…’

‘You are perverted…and he is taking liberties’

Damen shifted down the bed and started to suck Laurent who started to get hard again.

‘Mary, mother of Christ…’

‘Don’t mess with me.’

Plum didn’t come back with the cloth.

Sometime in the afternoon, they got up and got dressed. Laurent felt tender, so he wore double undershorts under the breeches, and he walked with care, taking Damen’s arm for support. Damen was very proud of himself. They strolled down the streets to the market square, taking their time and chatting as lovers do. They reached the market and stood at the braziers with the other men, and listened to the gossip, it would be good to find out about Paul and Raymond, neither were well known so they could stand almost unrecognised, Laurent did nod to a couple of the men who were near neighbours, and Damen responded out of politeness, they had got some of the nuts and were having a conversation amongst themselves when Laurent spotted Govart standing a little along the way, he thought about turning his back but he was easily recognised, his body shape and hair instantly identifiable, and Govart did recognise him and turned away but did not leave the market square, he was bold.

‘That’s one of my men, Govart, he’s a braggart, should I go over there?’

‘Let him go Laurent, he is bold enough to stay where he is, even though he knows you are here; you don’t have the means to punish him and you cannot argue with him in front of all these people, he won’t obey you. If you do persuade him to come back with you, he will a be a bad influence on the rest of the men, he has fallen in with another group of men. He is no loss. Forget him.

They took a turn around the square picking up some food for later, Plum had the evening off, he was going to take his girl out for a stroll and try his luck. When they got back, they put on, and boiled a large chaudron of water, whilst waiting they retired to bed and resumed canoodling.

‘It’s your turn, I have told you everything. You have held your own council, not fair, spill.’

‘Well, the only thing of significance is that I lost a woman I loved very much.’

Laurent couldn’t help it, he immediately felt jealous, he couldn’t watch Damen’s face and turned away from him, but then backed into him. Damen understood, snuggled him and pulled him down, so that he rested in the cave of his body. Laurent could feel Damen talking and his heart beating, it made him feel at home, and gave him comfort.

‘Her name was Jokaste. We grew up together, next door neighbours when we sixteen, we went to a harvest festival, somehow we were left behind the main crowd, and we walked home together, I found her interesting, she has a lively and intelligent mind. Her family are not as wealthy as mine nor do they have the connections. They are, however, a respectable family, there was no shame being attached to her. We started walking out together, I did not disrespect her, and it was nearly two years before we actually did…you…know. I cared for her very much, I was trying to save money for…’

Damen hesitated as he remembered that he had got within 1 livre of his target. He took jobs around the estate and his father proudly paid. He had managed to save enough to make sure that he could keep his bride to be for at least a year. His father paid labourers 2 livre, so he thought he would need at least 5 livres to ensure that he kept Jokaste in the style that he grew up in, of course he did not need to do this. His father had a large house, in fact a chateau or there were cottages he could use if they wanted to rough it. He was trying to manage of his own, if he was man enough to marry, he had to be man enough to support his wife, and the child that would surely be born in that year. They had begun to make love and managed to avoid trouble by rudimentary control, he pulled out at orgasm. It wasn’t satisfactory but he knew that she could not fall pregnant, her family were staunch Catholics, they should not even be doing the sex. They judged her safe times and at other times of the month they had other ways of pleasuring each other.

He noticed that Kastor was increasingly present at any group outings they attended and on the second anniversary of their harvest walk, both she and Kastor disappeared for an hour, he hadn’t realised that Kastor had disappeared, they were all in separate fields, it was only afterwards that he was told by separate people that both had disappeared.

He started to watch her, she was good at deception. They met as often, but he noted that Kastor was out of the house a good deal. Their fatal mistake was not theirs, again someone else told on them, her mother mentioned seeing Kastor at a time when Jokaste was not seeing Damen. So he challenged her and she threw it in his face. Calling him a boy, and Kastor a man who could satisfy her and had the money and status to support her now. He never saw her again and Kastor moved out of the house, and into Toulouse. His father was helplessly sad, his two sons at odds, and it looked like he would lose one or both of them. Kastor got a job as a clerk in the town hall, and shortly afterwards Jokaste left home and they were married at the town hall, a quick and hasty wedding, she was already pregnant.

Damen didn’t realise but he had been gently crying whilst he was in the memory, when Laurent felt the tears he turned back and got Damen big as he was in his arms and comforted him.

‘Is that the worst thing Damen?’

‘Yes. My life until then was unremarkable. I was happy, and well looked after. I studied, trained in swordsmanship and riding, and was always intended for an active if not military life. My brother is the son of my father’s first wife who died in childbirth, I often think I was born out of love, my brother has not really had such a fortunate life. He has always had to deal with some kind of loss and when he saw a chance of happiness, he took it and took her from me. Loss was nothing to him, he does not miss me, I still miss him because he was my big brother and when we were growing up I looked up to him and he let me tag along, I was a nuisance to him and he never seemed to mind, I loved him and I still do but I never see him, he took away something precious. It was not only the fact that he took Jokaste, he also took away my trust, it took a while to restore it, and having Nikandros around me has helped immensely. When you spend time with him you will see that Nikandros is a lovely man, he held me up when I was ready to fall down, he knows me inside out and he has never criticised me, he offers advice that I can understand and take, I trust him above all. I love him as any man loves a true and worthy friend, he is someone who I cannot do without, he is irreplaceable.’

Laurent turned the back again.

‘What? Jealous? So what is the story with Plum? This appears to be a similar situation, a close friend, in service to the family, how is this different? You are cool with him and not with Nikandros? How so?’

‘Are you jealous of Plum?’

‘Yes. I can admit it, in my head I can see him fucking you, I don’t like the idea that he is here when I am away, you may get tempted.’

‘I told already, he does not like men and he has a girl, he does not see me in that way.’

‘He is too familiar with you. You ought to tell him to have some respect.’

Laurent rose out of bed.

‘That water should be boiled now.’

Damen lay back, he was feeling too much.

A little while later, the door opened and Laurent struggled in with a large basin of warm water.

‘Get up, you lazy fucker.’

‘Why?’

‘I am going to wash you.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes you smell.’

‘You weren’t complaining earlier….’

‘Get up.’

Damen got up; he was naked. The idea of Laurent washing him was beginning to have some appeal.

‘And you can stop that.’

‘What?’

Damen began to stroke himself.

‘There will be no point in washing if you carry on with that.’

‘Alright. Come. Laurent, come, wash me.’

Laurent threw their dirty cloth on the floor and turned it over, cleanish side up for Damen to stand on and manhandled the basin over.

He splashed some water over Damen, making sure his body was wet all over, soaped up a cloth and began to work on his body starting with his face, at first Damen was compliant, but as Laurent reached his legs, his stance changed in anticipation.

‘You’ve missed a bit.’

It was true, Laurent had purposefully left his dick, balls and ass.

‘I am coming back for those.’

‘OK’

Laurent continued washing down his legs and finally reached his feet.

‘Sit on the bed Damen, swing your legs up.’

Laurent washed his feet, then got the washcloth and rinsed it.

‘Open your legs.’

Damen’s dick began to grow hard.

‘See it is trying to help you.’

Laurent took hold and wiped it with his cloth, it was big it needed several swipes, Damen started to hiss and grumble.

‘Fuck that…suck it.’

‘No.’

Laurent rinsed the washcloth again, began to wash the balls and perineum, the dick grew very hard, Laurent roughly wiped the balls, then put one of them in his mouth and began sucking on it, all the while wiping back and forth between the balls and hole, he swapped balls and continued sucking and washing.

He looked up, Damen was gone somewhere out of his head and into heaven.

He got up and rinsed out the washcloth again.

‘Turn over, on your knees.’

Laurent was very thorough, with the cloth, and then his mouth. He threw the cloth away, spread Damen and began to literally eat his ass, tasting the inner tender flesh, biting the ass cheeks, stroking the dick.

‘Oh Christ…don’t stop Laurent…that feels amazing…’

Laurent tested a tongue against Damen’s hole, he bucked then widened his legs.

‘Deeper.’

Laurent hollowed his tongue and pressed in as far as he could. Damen sank onto his elbows, his ass was wide open and waiting like a ripe peach soft and delicious, the stone removed, the flesh darker, red and tempting, juicy. Laurent looked at it and wondered.

‘Have you ever been fucked?’

‘Yes.’

‘Who by?’

‘Never mind…’

‘I thought you only liked women…’

He put his finger into the hole and pressed it gently in and out, Stopped, walked away, and got the remaining olive oil, worked a little onto his fingers and ran a little onto the hole which opened and then clenched. Laurent’s dick bounced in front of him, he dripped a little oil it, it knew where it wanted to go. He recommenced with the finger, pressed it in down to the last knuckle, withdrew it and then pressed two fingers in. Damen sighed which sucked the fingers deeper and then commenced moaning very loudly, this was joined by soft cursing, and gentle begging for Laurent’s cock.

‘You haven’t answered me…I don’t like the idea that someone else has had your ass before me...’

He removed the fingers and slapped Damen hard. Damen cried out in pain and in pleasure. The pain radiated out from his ass round to his groin.

‘Merde…Oh Laurent…’

He started to get off his knees and lie down.

‘Who told you you could get down, get back on your knees.’ This was followed by three short sharp slaps. Then he bent down and licked the hole. Replaced the tongue with the fingers. Damen continued sighing and moaning.

‘Who was he?’

‘…No one Laurent…just someone I liked the look of, he meant nothing…’

His voice was gruff with want and desire. He wanted Laurent to stop questioning him, he had more pressing things on his mind.

‘How many men have fucked you?’

Damen was silent.

‘More than one? Tell the Truth. He? Or They?’

He pushed into Damen’s hole in one solid rush. Damen did not answer nor did he know what to do with himself, he could only open up and allow Laurent to fully enter him, grunted when this was achieved then tried to clasp Laurent’s dick with his body, gave up, eased open and just allowed himself to feel full of cock. It was sensational. Laurent stood deep inside him for several moments, enjoying the fact that he entirely possessed Damen, reciprocal because this was also a feeling Damen never had. Laurent removed his dick, fondled Damen’s ass, stroking and using his thumb to press and mark visible lines, then slapped it three times again, entered Damen again and began to fuck him hard and fast.

‘Oh Christ…Laurent…’ 

The noise and smell of sex filled the room, skin, voice, cloth, liquid and solid.

Damen’s dick was so hard and dripping with pre-come from anticipation that he came very quickly. Laurent slowed to enjoy the sensation of Damen’s pulsating body, then began to enjoy himself, varying pace and pressure, revelling in Damen’s body which gripped him like rough velvet, flesh in then out, differing areas of skin touching and caressing, inside and outside, body swollen from orgasm, tight and loose vibrations going through both their bodies from past and coming orgasms.

Ignoring that Damen was tender from the climax, Laurent began to increase his pace, eventually rising to a crescendo vocally and physically, when he came he collapsed over Damen’s back, wrapped his arms around his torso tightly, pushed into Damen as close as he could get and shot everything deep into his body raggedly pumping his ass in time with the rhythm that drove his orgasm, then relaxing so that he could release all, and started pumping again, all his internal muscles palpitating, muscles in his ass moving him forward, heart beating deep in his body forcing everything out. When Damen tried to move, Laurent held him tight only letting him go when all had been released and his body was finally done. Sated, he took a deep breath and pulled out.

Needless to say the wash was wasted.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Final Part of this story. 
> 
> Now all that remains is to resolve how to deal with Paul whose past catches up with him in more ways than one, Damen and Laurent are reunited.

On Saturday, Laurent and Plum returned to the men. Damen returned to the house and his men.

As expected Govart was nowhere to be seen, the men had remained loyal but were beginning to become restless and wanted to know when they might finally find quarters in Toulouse, and finally join battle. Laurent had to explain that the battle was actually more subtle. The Cathars had infiltrated all levels of society, there were no actual fights or riots, their help would be needed to run the Cathars out of town. So no actual hand to hand fighting unless the Cathars gathered their own forces. There would be raids, not battles. The men noted that he was more content in himself and therefore more settled, mature, he came across as authoritative. They fell silent as he spoke.

‘I am going to talk directly to Paul and ask him when we can join his men. I am going to be honest with you. If I bring you into town I have sufficient money to support all of us for a month or so. Thereafter if nothing is resolved with Paul, I might have to ask you to either find jobs here or return home. If you return to the estate there is work, and we will pay you. You and your families have served the de Veres well and we will always take you back, even if you stay in Toulouse awhile and return to us, we will welcome you back. You are all able men and you are fit, so I don’t think you will have any trouble finding work, the only thing you have to lose is the love of your family and friends back home.

Of course you may have decided to leave anyway, I cannot stop you, but I appeal to you to stay with your brothers and complete the task we have come here to do.’

Afterwards, he called Plum to one side.

‘I would not let you go for any reason, you are important to me, and I need you. What say you?’

‘I have no intention of leaving your side Laurent, we are friends as well as master and servant. I want to see you grow old, and I want you to see my children grow, as I hope to see yours.’

‘Well Plum, the children thing may be difficult, I think have found my mate, and I don’t think he can have children. That may have to work out another way.’

Plum laughed and shook his hand.

‘I happy for you Sir, this is the happiest I have seen you since you returned home. And now we have some kind of bargain Sir I shall not leave your side.’

Laurent stayed the weekend with the men. The men had a meeting amongst themselves and decided that they would wait until Laurent had had a chance to talk to Paul but held him to having those talks in the coming week; they had been away from home for many weeks and nothing had been decided. This trip was not turning into what they expected; they had expected and looked forward to some kind of battle, to fighting.

Laurent had kept his word and returned to them, they trusted him but only so far, and were reaching the end of the line with him. They had gruel, Laurent gave Jord money for that, flour and rice, they caught birds, rabbits or hares, ventured further afield and even caught a wild pig and another time an old deer but it was subsistence living, they had no fresh vegetables apart from what they could cadge from the farms around, and in return for that food they did some odd pieces of work either clearing fields or weeding, tidying hedgerows and cleaning ditches, all of which kept them fit and which together with military training kept them busy. But still, it wasn’t why they had left their homes.

Early Monday morning, Laurent left with Plum and they went back to town, arriving back at Charls’ merchant house after eight in the morning. Charls’ boy was on the doorstep, so was Nikandros.

‘Good morning Sir…’

‘Have you seen Damen…’

Laurent’s head swung between the two. He answered Nikandros’ first.

‘What do you mean have I seen Damen? I last saw him on Saturday morning, we left the house together. He went to your house…the quarters…that is what he told me…that was where he said he was going.’

‘He never arrived…’

‘Sir…Monsieur Charls requires your company.’

‘Shh! Keep quiet boy.’

‘What do you mean he never arrived…have you send out your men to look for him?’

‘No. He is a grown ass man. I thought he was with you.’

The boy put a piece of parchment in Laurent’s hands, turned and ran off.

On the sheet of parchment was a message in an elegant hand. 

‘Damen de Vere is the house guest of Kastor de Vere. He is being held on behalf of Paul of Toulouse. Damen accused Paul of a most heinous crime and Kastor seized him on behalf of the town, he’s holding him on house arrest…’

There was more, Laurent turned on his heels.

‘Come with me.’

All three men turned onto the main street and at a brisk pace walked to Charls’ main residence. Charls was waiting for them.

‘What took you so long?’

‘What have you done to get him out of there?’

‘Nothing. Paul has placed men on the street and in the house. It is folly to rush the house without being prepared. We need to isolate Paul, we cannot just attack him or his men. 

I have some prior knowledge of Paul, and I know that he is capable of that which he has been accused.’

‘What are you talking about? We can get together thirty men, let’s go and get him.’

‘Paul will just come back with fifty men and arrest you, you are the primary cause of Damen being locked up.’

Laurent already knew this, he sat down his head in his hands and spoke in despair.

‘I care for him so much, he has shown me so much love and understanding. I don’t know that I can do without him.’

He stood up.

‘We have to do something.’

‘We will do nothing. He is not being ill-treated, he is just being held in the house, in a locked room down in the basement, he has food and drink, he is not free but he is not in danger, yet. If we rush at this he will be killed. Paul will not allow the knowledge of what he has done to leave that house.’

‘So you are saying he will be killed, regardless?’

‘Not if we can get him out. But we have to do this logically.’

‘How long do we have?’

‘I don’t know but I would say that we need to get him out by the end of the week.

Both Plum and Nikandros were at a loss, they did not know why Damen might be held and why Laurent was the cause. They were both looking at Laurent with questions and blame written over their faces.

‘Gentlemen let us have lunch, we can put everything on the table, figuratively and actually. Plum and Nikandros, we need you at our table, you are our equals in love and friendship.’

They had lunch, a light meal consisting of some green leaves, cut meat and bread, and a few bottles of local wine. Laurent did not drink neither did Charls, but Plum and Nikandros thought they would partake, they did not often get good wine, a glass or two would not hurt.

‘Now, tell us what you know Charls. We want to understand how Laurent is implicated.’

Charls looked to Laurent, he did not want to embarrass him. 

‘Plum already has an idea, the only person who may not know anything is Nikandros.’

He told his story again in the simplest of terms. Nikandros got up, went around to his side of the table, pulled him up and held him a long time, it seemed that the de Akielos family and retainers were men of great feeling and sympathy. Laurent was grateful. Plum was silent and silently suffering on behalf of his master, he held his hand until the table was cleared, and when Nikandros was not holding him.

‘There is another who has suffered greatly at Paul’s hands, but he is too young and too embroiled to understand this. His name is Nicaise…’

At this Laurent let out a cry. Plum squeezed his hand and spoke soothingly to him, Laurent moved his chair and sat very close to him, Plum put his arm around him.

After he heard Nicaise’s story, Nikandros was ready to kill Paul right there and then.

‘It is a given in our society that men who abuse children or women are put to death, there are no exceptions and no man who hears of this can stand by and let the perpetrator walk around freely. Damen was trying to get Kastor to help him. He truly is a bastard.’

Nikandros was a direct and straight speaking man, the way was clear. He would join any venture not only to free Damen but also to make sure that this man of influence and power would not be spending very much longer on this earth.

‘We have to be careful how we approach this, there is still fear of a rebellion. The townsfolk do not want a war on their doorstep. War is expensive not only in terms of money, families split into factions, death ends relationships in more way than the obvious. And, do any of you know men who are tempted by Catharism?’

Plum kept his eyes down, but he noted that Laurent’s knee was bouncing up and down, nervous energy which threatened to undermine his silence.

‘Laurent you have some interesting friends, don’t you?’

Laurent had no choice but to speak up.

‘I have attended some meetings and made some friends amongst the Cathar community. Father Louis has become good friend who understands my history, I know I can turn to him in time of trouble…this I think is an appropriate time.’

‘Charls, I hope you are not thinking of inviting Cathars into our dispute.’

‘I am, they also do not like Paul, and because of his support for the cause or the coming call for Crusade. Father Louis knows about Paul and he has heard confession which implicates him and others, that is why he converted to the Cathars, like our friend he seeks reason for our human behaviour. The comparison of an earthly realm which is corrupt and lead by evil, and that of a world to come lead by love, peace and goodness, encouraged him to believe in a divinity which is pure and not corporal, this is appealing to many.

Cathars do not believe in human superiority, no man may put himself above another and name himself so because he has studied to be a priest. We are judged by our deeds. We can give into temptation or we can live a good life. Moreover, everyone has a spark of the divine; it is how we recognise this and what drives us to make the divine a real thing on this mortal earth. I am not Cathar, but I can see its appeal especially for those whose lives have been blighted by some personal disaster.’

Throughout Charls’ speech Laurent became alert and was nodding his agreement.

‘Catharism is Catholicism in its simplest form. It is based on the gospels not on dogma written by men to bring us in line with society norms or to support corruption. I have found comfort in its words. I don’t expect you to follow it, but to have respect for those who do believe. The church is in need of reform, you must see that when you hear about people like Paul.’

‘Well I am not that sure I want to convert…’ Nikandros spoke, then carried on.

‘We have a job in hand, and we need all the help we can, so long as no one starts spouting at me, I will take any man as comrade if he believes in the cause of the group. I have fought in battles with men I would not waste spit on, but once we are in a fight together, they are my comrade.. What do you suggest Charls?’

‘Let Laurent speak with Father Louis, he will be able to gather up some men. You have twenty men, that’s right?’ Nikandros nodded assent. ‘How many men do you have left Laurent?’

‘I think nine, ten if I count Plum, but I want to keep Plum close, he is my support and my valet. Jord will fight.’ 

Laurent was being pragmatic also, he thought that Plum would make a better steward, he would not turn Jord off his estate, but he would find him another position, he had proved unreliable in his management of the men. Aimeric was a trouble-maker but even he had a better understanding of how to manage men than Jord, in fact Aimeric was giving Jord advice about the men, he snuck around behind Jord’s back and gossiped with the men then fed it back to Jord, playing all sides one against the other.

‘Your wish is granted Laurent, you need him.’

So we have thirty men, Father Louis can probably find us another fifty men, I know they have been secretly training and gathering resources in case of siege, I have twenty men also. So in total we have a hundred men. That is probably sufficient to get Damen out, but I suggest we be more subtle and ensure that Paul is removed once and for all. Raymond’s position is tenuous, he has been excommunicated once already, he is back but he is compromised, I don’t think he will last long. Paul is already trying to switch sides to the new man in town, Simon de Montfort. We have to strike before de Montfort establishes a stronghold and launches a formal crusade. I suggest we call a town hall meeting and challenge Paul there. We can use the men we have to secure the building, and however we decide to do it, we can get rid of Paul there where he is less likely to suspect anything, and we can disperse easily once the deed is done.

‘I will invite Paul here tomorrow night or if necessary I will visit him, I need you Nikandros to be present but silent. Prepare your men, get your Captain to spend a couple of days on drills which are appropriate for raiding, also for securing a building, Laurent can you go today to Father Louis? Afterwards Plum, can you go to your men and ask Jord and Aimeric to prepare the men in the same way please? I will lend you a horse to go to them.’

‘I certainly will go.’ Both Laurent and Plum spoke at the same time, they looked fondly at each other.

‘I have other friends on the council, I need to gather them for the town hall meeting, it won’t be a big meeting, I think us, and sufficient to have a panel of merchants. I might even see if I can persuade Raymond to attend, that will give us credence and validity, he wants to see Paul gone as we do, albeit for different reasons. We will tell Paul that we need to prepare the town for siege and rebellion; there are also men who have come to support Toulouse against Cathars, who should be looked after as they were promised. Lastly everyone here needs to keep quiet about the real reason for the meeting. As far as anyone else is concerned we are preparing for a Cathar rebellion.’

Laurent and Plum set off for the Cathar meeting hall, it was a ways down from the church that Laurent had found, when they reached the building Father Louis was not there.

‘Where is he? It’s important.’

‘He is visiting his brother who is unwell. He returns this evening. Can I help you?’

Laurent looked at the man, he did not know him so he could not trust him with his business.

‘I will return this evening; at what time should I call?’

‘Oh, he will not be here this evening, he is taking a meeting in Matabieu, his house is near there too.’

‘Where is the meeting?’

‘I am sorry, I am not at liberty to tell you, it is a select meeting for the elders of the church, I cannot tell you. These are days where we cannot divulge such information for his safety and the safety of the church.’

Laurent held his eye, it would not give. He gave up, left the building, thought for a moment and turned back.

‘Can you get a message to him?’

‘I cannot promise, who are you Sir’

‘My name is Laurent de Vere. I need his assistance, like you I am not at liberty to discuss this matter except with him. He knows me well, if I could get a message to him he would know who it was from.’

‘Some parchment, quill and ink please.’

He spoke to one of the clerks who was already busy with copying from a bible.

‘Write your message, it must be important. I will do what I can to make sure he gets it.’

Laurent paused over the words.

‘Plum help me.’

They concocted a simple message.

‘His lord has retained an unlikely houseguest; can we meet tonight? It is time to act.’

‘Will he know where to come Laurent?’

‘I will give Damen’s address, not only will that be easier for him to get to, he might know him and know that he is in danger. It is a big house. Tonight I shall sleep in Damen’s bed, when you come back Nikandros will find you a space. Go to the men, when you pick up the horse tell Charls what happened. Thank you Plum.’

It was late afternoon, Laurent felt weary, it felt like he had made no progress, he knew that he would get energy from doing something positive, he took off for Damen’s house.

Nikandros was already making plans when he got there. He was sat at the table in the downstairs hall preparing drills, working out what tools and weapons were needed and if he needed to hire any animals. They had only a short time to get everything organised.

‘Are you hungry Laurent? I can get one of the men to prepare something for you, we have some meat and rice leftover from yesterday’s meal or we can cut you some meat, I think it is ham, there are also some salted olives and cornichon…’

Laurent decided that he would eat, no point in starving himself, he had hardly eaten or drunk at Charls, Nikandros was watching him, knowing that he was really hungry and wanting to take care of him. He had to take some food. The man attending was sent away and returned in due course with a small trencher of food and a cup of water.

After the food had been served, there was a polite knock and an older man stood in the doorway.

‘Hello Lydos. What did you find? Laurent, this is Lydos who is our person for scouting out areas, especially in towns, he is good with working out the best ways into a building and the dimensions and space we might encounter, he can look at windows and doors and work out the internal structures he is very talented.’

‘You honour me Nikandros.’

‘Come, come, join us here. What do you need?’

‘Something I can draw on and something I can write with.’

‘You have very simple requirements, I like that in you, straightforward, that is very helpful.’

Nikandros pulled out a piece of rough parchment from a batch on the table, a quill and some ink, pushed them towards Lydos, who immediately begun to draw out the Hotel de Ville or town hall.

Laurent observed how Nikandros spoke with his subordinate, he offered softness and praise, but he knew that these were not easily won, he had seen the flash in his eyes, he knew that he was a hard task master and that this man had won his trust.

‘It has been recently rebuilt, in the new style, there are fewer doors, but they are fortified. There is a large open space in front of the building, and several roads into the square, it is easy to bring men in quickly, and the main thoroughfare into town comes directly onto one of the roads into the square, we will need to get into the building and not allow ourselves to be found outside, whoever is inside will be able to defend at will and keep out intruders easily.

The town hall has offices on the North and South sides those sides do not have external doors, the external doors are mainly to the front and there are two at the back of the building, two doors from the front lead into offices, two into the main hall, and the two at the back lead into the hall but have a partition in front, with a central door into the main hall.’

‘How do you know there is a partition?’

‘I waited and was lucky, some goods were being brought in and I could see that they have storage spaces, probably also garderobes, perhaps a kitchen, the remainder of the offices are on the next level. I don’t think there are doors up there, just cubicles some with windows or openings, perhaps there may be some rooms with doors I would expect that but I don’t anticipate there would be many with actual lockable doors. There are chimneys on the West and East sides, the offices and other spaces are either side of these. So we need to have at least four men on each door, and others to back them up. And we should match Paul’s men one for one.’

So that means twenty four men on the doors, that is not enough, we will have around a hundred men if everyone delivers on their promise, Paul will probably bring twenty or thirty men because hopefully he will not suspect, we may have some hand to hand fighting in the hall. If we can secure the doors and prevent others getting in, then we may succeed. Where’s Stavos? Go and get him please.

How are you Laurent? Don’t worry we will get Damen out safely, he is probably pigging out on good food while we eat shit.’

He smiled and joked as a way to make Laurent feel better, Laurent didn’t feel better. He just wanted Damen out of danger, this was no time to be making jokes. He wasn’t simple.

‘I am not a child Nikandros, I am Damen’s lover, treat me with respect please. I understand the danger and complexities of our task.’

Nikandros turned steely, before he could speak Stavos came into the room, he was very tall, perhaps six and half feet, and although he was not as attractive as Damen, he was overwhelming, Nikandros chuckled.

‘Yes, he has that effect on quite a few people, he is a good tool. Men and women roll over for him, and what to do things for him.’

‘I am married Nikandros, please. This is not appropriate.’

‘Being married does not stop you from enjoying…’

Laurent butted in.

‘Please Nikandros, we need to concentrate on the job in hand, which is freeing Damen.’

‘Laurent, we _are_ taking this seriously, we cannot spend our whole day being miserable, in order to get through it we also have to acknowledge the humanity of our friends and colleagues, I am not disrespecting the situation, I take it seriously, but I cannot be miserable all the time. It might be best if you went for a walk or perhaps joined our company of men for some exercise.’

Laurent looked at him out of the side of his eye. He was not happy. He had to leave the room so went into the yard. The men looked at him like he was some kind of mechanical toy, not sure how to talk to him. He was noble, their leader’s rumoured lover, they took him all in. A good-looking boy, he felt the mood change, take that back, a young man, he was mature, there was something about him. He had a slim youthful frame, flexible, probably stood five ten, taller than most men, Damen was well over six foot, and solid, they could just see them in bed. Yes, they fit together well, both were well made in their way, their attention drifted back to work. Someone shouted.

‘Laurent, come join us, we are practicing our swordplay, do you have training?’

‘Sir I am educated, I fence, can hold a sword and ride competently; let me have that sword, no the long sword, I could do with some practice.’

The man threw the sword, Laurent caught it expertly, he felt its weight and balance, a little heavier than the one he had back in Charls house. It would do, it wasn’t balanced for him, but it was usable. A young man approached him, sword in hand, heavier than Laurent, as tall and smiling, the kind of smile that Laurent did not like. Laurent thought he would take that smile off him.

They play fought for a few moments and the young man realised that Laurent was more than competent, and that he had a real fight on his hands. The other men started to watch, eventually over a series of moves, Laurent turned the man into the sun raised his sword and distracted him, Laurent was able to chop at him with his shield, kicked his ankle bone, and then kicked his legs from under him, he allowed him to stand and retrieve his sword. They set to again, this time Laurent turned him , this time the Autumn sun shone across his eyes instead of directly into them, he was not certain where he was in relation to Laurent and the angle of the sun, he turned the wrong way and edged into the light, and into Laurent who stood on the man’s foot and brought the shield down onto his sword arm with a heavy blow. Laurent stood back and knocked the sword out of the stunned man’s hand with a blow from his sword, whacked his foot so that he was off-balance, caused the man to fall his knees, Laurent threw away his own shield, raised his sword and held it two handed at the man’s throat, having forced him over onto his back. He did not need strength, he had speed and guile.

‘Do you yield Sir?’

The other man had no choice, Laurent had his foot on his chest and the sword at his neck.

He heard Nikandros call out: ‘Bravo’, instead of acknowledging his cheers and congratulations, he walked up and asked.

‘Have you made the necessary plans to raid Kastor’s house?’

‘You, are a determined little shit.’

‘I cannot deny that Sir. Is the job done?’

Laurent washed his face and sat waiting for a message or servant from Father Louis, after a couple of hours he gave in and went to bed, thinking that he would need to rest for the next day. Perhaps tomorrow would bring the news he wanted. Plum had left for the men, when Plum arrived he gave them a short terse message from Laurent, and instructions from Nikandros which he handed to Jord, together with Nikandros’ duplicate copy of the plan of the building. Plum rode back through dark roads leading to town, when he reached he picked his way through lanes and alleys he hardly knew, finally arriving at Damen’s house very late, job completed and pleased that the task was done.

Good came in many ways, Jord felt insulted by his exclusion and vowed to show both Laurent and Nikandros that he could also plan and that he could train the men in the correct way, it was just what he needed as motivation. He started to prepare the men that night and went into the following day a renewed man. Laurent’s men were going to be just as inspired as Damen’s rescue might require.

At midnight there was gentle knocking at the door of Damen’s house, it was insistent but quiet it did not rouse the neighbours, but it did rouse the household who were sleeping but highly aware alive to sounds that were not normal. Stavos and Pallas went to the door, and found Father Louis and two other men, one of them obviously military, the other looked like he could help himself in a fight.

‘I am sorry to disturb you, I came as soon as I could. I had a message from Laurent and would like to talk to him.’ He wore his soutane, a hooded cloak and a pair of stout boots. ‘I had to walk from my house, it has taken a little while and I had to avoid being seen in the curfew or risk being taken by Paul’s men. Where is he?’

‘Sir, I can see you wear priest’s garb, but can you tell me who you are? It is very late to be calling.’ Pallas thought to make certain, he looked at Stavos to see if he done right, Stavos gave an imperceptible nod.

‘It’s alright Pallas, it is Father Louis.’

Laurent stood on the stairs a candle in his hand.

‘Come in Father, Pallas would you mind raking the fire and setting it right please? Come, Father it is too cold for you to be standing on the doorstep, come in come in. Your men also.’

All three came into the now candlelit room, the shutters were already closed and the heavy cloths covering them had been brought across, the fire was stoked and soon it became cosy.

‘Would you take a drink?’

‘A small glass of brandy would not go amiss; it will help warm me.’ He dismissed the men telling them to go with Pallas to the men’s quarters, that left Laurent, Stavos and Father Louis.

‘Where is Nikandros?’

‘Here Stavos, thank you, I will sit with Laurent now.’

Laurent quickly told Father Louis what had happened.

‘So you see Father, we need your help, I will be direct and to the point, we need the men that have been training under your aegis…’

‘Laurent, I do not have any men training under my patronage. If you want warrior priests there a few attached to the town, they are able, fit military men but they are loyal to the papacy, they will not help.’

Laurent was despondent.

‘I know of men who are preparing for a siege...’

Laurent looked into his face for meaning of what he said. Nikandros was alert and alive to what was being said.

‘I am not allowed to raise men for fighting, I am an ordained priest, it would be wrong for me to have men in training.’

His voice fell to a whisper.

‘I can put you in touch with some people who may be able to help you, there are men who have been recruiting wardens - do you understand me? Men who will protect their houses in case of siege or riot. They do not like the current regime. I can say no more.’

‘I do not wish to put you in any danger Father, or to cause you any embarrassment, how can we go forward with this task of reaching out to them?’

A little smile ran across Father Louis’ face, Laurent caught sight of it.

‘Why so merry Father?’

‘How old are you?’

‘Twenty.’

‘Liar. You are seventeen.’ Nikandros put the priest right. 

‘And very astute. Your friend is very lucky to have you in his life.’

Nikandros snorted.

‘Do you have some parchment and a quill?’

For a second time Nikandros pulled out a piece of parchment, some ink and writing materials.

‘My hand is not very good, Nikandros…do I have your name right? Can you write down the details?’

‘Yes Father, I would be honoured.’

Father Louis gave them the names of ten men, and where they might be found during the day. Some were merchants, some craftsmen and others ordinary townsfolk who had some standing amongst their neighbours.

‘Some have a few men, others have ten or so, you might get fifty or sixty men all told. Please tell them specifically: ‘Father has special blessings for those who fight for the lord.’ Be very specific, the second part of the password is ‘And the divine rest in God’s care.’ They will be very helpful, there is no need to go into detail about why you need their help, they just need to know your plans, where they need to go and the time you need them. They are discreet, trained in ambush and raiding, they are not soldiers. They will not fight a prolonged battle they can only spare a couple of days away from their normal work without fear of exposure. If they are gone longer than that, there is the possibility that attention will be drawn to their absence. I suppose you need them quickly in any case?’

‘Yes, we plan to achieve our goal in four days’

‘Well, that is a very short period of time, your time is valuable – I have done what I can. Can you spare me a couple of men to see us on our way at least until we reach the outskirts of our locality?’

‘Of course Sir.’ As he left Nikandros started calling. ‘Pallas! Lydos!’

‘This must mean very much to you. You risk a great deal. I envy you.’

‘Envy?’

‘Yes. There is a great deal of love wrapped up in your determination, is there not…’

Laurent was silent.

‘I am only trying to do right, and set things right, things that go back to my early years, things I was not able to make right at the time. You understand, don’t you?’

‘Laurent, do not ask any man for approval of right action. You know in your heart if your action is right. It is a given, no man may have power over another, that is a basic tenet for our religion and good way of living and operating in this world. Never forget that, it applies to you and to those who you encounter. And now, I must go on my way…I see our escort is here.’

In fact Nikandros had four men ready to escort Father Louis and his retainers. They would see the job done properly, and escort them to their door.

‘Come and see me when you have completed your task, I would expect you in any case at our next service on Sunday, we will have time to discuss how things have gone for you. Good Luck Laurent. Thank you Nikandros.’

The next day everyone involved woke up fresh from a restless night of sleep, Father Louis had finally left well after one in the morning. Those awake and those who returned went to bed tired. Laurent fell into a deep sleep but awake at five, Nikandros slept but woke every time his brain recognised a sound, Stavos snored as if for the Gods. The men felt their leaders’ anxiety and were equally on edge. They got up at six and tip-toed around their testy masters, making substantial breakfasts, clearing up quickly, setting up stands with weights, man sized blocks and running specific drills geared at withstanding quick rushes and holding fortressed doors, over and over and over again.

At mid-day, a surprise, Jord had brought his men into town. They arrived in dribs and drabs, two or three at a time.

‘Best to join forces now than try to bring us together on Thursday. We will have better understanding and will work well together.’

‘Why did you bring all the men to town, who saw you come through the gate?’

‘We aren’t stupid, we split up; some came through the south gate, some through the east, others came through later. We all set off at different times. Don’t worry Laurent, and we have all come here in our small groups.’ The men were dressed in either cloaks or a small amount of mail, they did not look entirely out of place. Aimeric had chosen to wear a gown which showed the family coat of arms. Laurent noted his preening.

‘Where the fuck do you think you are going Aimeric, this is a raid not a fucking party. Take it off.’

Aimeric looked hurt. He nearly spoke but on seeing Laurent’s face wisely decided to shut up. Lazar took pity on him, taking him off to console him.

‘Who’s that?’ Pallas’ eyes were very bright.

‘Keep your cock in your breeches’

‘And that is the problem, it wants out…’

They rested for an hour, Aimeric joined Lazar and together they made food for the men, everybody ate together, a feeling of purpose descended on the group. The restless feeling of the morning melted away, the energy changed for the good. A kind of underlying happiness pervaded them all, they were now clearly on a mission.

In the afternoon, Nikandros who had naturally taken charge, instructed Jord and Stavos to lead the men in some close combat training, they needed to be able to work in small spaces, use a knife and a fist to bring down their opponent, if necessary wrestling him to the ground.

‘We normally wrestle naked, it is our regional sport, who will join me?’

Pallas looked meaningfully at Lazar who responded.

’Fuck Off.’

Jord marked off six-foot squares and paired the men, mixing Laurent’s men with Damen’s. Somehow Pallas and Lazar ended up together. Inevitably, Pallas managed to get Lazar on the ground, not only on the ground but was lying half on top of him. Pallas spoke.

‘How did this happen?’

Mock surprise abounded.

Pallas had somehow got arms around Lazar and a leg pressing on Lazar’s cock, he was using the leg to stroke and press Lazar, at the same time maintaining pressure on his own dick; he rolled his groin, cock directly on Lazar’s hip and began dry humping. Lazar’s eyes had turned black, his arm snuck round Pallas’s waist, the groin was fastened to the hip and he did not seem to mind.

Stavos roared at them. ‘Get up you dirty fuckers.’ 

‘Pallas change partners, go practice with Adric. Lazar come here; I need someone to help with moving the stands. The rest of you resume…I said resume.’

Pallas winked at Lazar.

‘I’ll see you later.’

Lazar winked back, he had liked what he had felt. There were corners where later they could be private, he wanted to touch what he had felt.

That afternoon Charls went on train to see Paul. The meeting this time was very different. Charls went with a story and a purpose.

‘Sire, we need your presence on the panel at the hotel de ville on Friday, I need to be very clear. Some of our merchants and men of quality here in Town are worried.’

‘Why so Charls? The Pope is sending men, there is no sign that the Cathars are going to rebel or hold the town to siege. Why should they be unhappy?’

‘They are unhappy because you promised them and other men that you would reward them if they raised forces, you said you would pay for the subsistence of the men. There are several, in fact more than several who have brought men to town and are bearing the cost of their stay. They are beginning to grumble.’

Paul was quiet, his brain was working out what to say that did not contradict his promises, he couldn’t find the words without lying and went ahead.

‘I did ask some men to raise forces, but I was also very careful to say that I was dependent on the Pope to fund all these activities.’

He was lying and not lying, he could not afford to pay all of those who had offered to help, he was dependent on the Pope sending a papal force, and all the companies of men merging, that way the Vatican would take on all the costs. That might be some weeks off, sufficient time for there to be a rebellion amongst people who supported the cause, these supporters could not afford to keep the men either.

‘I think you should come to the panel so that we can discuss how this might be managed.’

‘Who will be there?’

‘Enguerrand, Simon de Montford, Myself, Laurent de Vere, Damen de Akielos, Charron, Meniados, Audin…’

‘Laurent de Vere is a child, Damen de Akielos is a hot-head, Charron is a thief, these men are not worthy of being present.’

‘They have brought you men Paul, they deserve your respect and I would remind you that Laurent is far from a child, you have spent time with him have you not? You know that he is mature beyond his years.’

Charls’ eyes were dark with anger. Paul began to understand that he could not escape, and that the situation would need to be managed else he would lose the respect of the town and its Elders.

‘So, it looks like I have no choice…’

‘It is not so stark, you will have plenty of opportunity to discuss how these men can be supported, it may be that you do not have lay out cash if you can persuade some of your senior feudal Lords to take care of some of the men. They can work on the land, or in crafts, a lot of these men are skilled, they come from backgrounds where they work to instruction, they are hard workers and they are fit. They will be a boon to our cause. You will also secure the loyalty of their masters. Your feudal reach will extend again far out beyond the town, across all of l’Occitan. The town and you both will benefit. You stand to increase your prestige and your wealth, the people who are complaining that you cannot afford to pay for these men will be in your grasp for many years. Prestige, land and money, what else could you wish for?’

Paul sat in his chair and pondered, he was left with little means of escaping his responsibilities, personally, politically and financially, he would have to commit.

‘What time?’

Meanwhile Charls entrusted Nestor, a nobleman of Toulouse with persuading Raymond of Toulouse to attend the panel on Friday. He gave him a script to follow; Nestor wisely learnt the bones of it and placed the paper in a secret pocket ready for retrieval if he needed it.

On Tuesday night Nestor held an impromptu banquet, calling in favours and people who simply wanted to be in the company of Raymond de Toulouse. He was still the overlord of Toulouse, and he still held favour with the Pope, albeit this was tenuous. Whilst he was in such a position people wanted to be around him, he still had power and if he granted licences for trade, pieces of land or even a title then these would still be honoured should he be later deposed or killed. Nobody was under an illusion, they knew there was reason for an impromptu banquet, these things were not called for small reason. There was politics in the mix, anyone who could get there did.

Raymond bought his wife Beatrice; this was even better for the gossips as there were rumours that she had a deal of sympathy for the Cathars and had been seen at a Cathor wedding party. Nestor was excited, not only because of his task but also because he was leaning towards Catharism himself, and wanted the opportunity to talk to Beatrice if only for a few minutes.

‘Raymond, can I tempt you to a special brandy? It was made for my father locally; I drink it rarely and as my esteemed guest I would like to offer you a small glass…not small but a perfect portion for tasting. Would you like some?’ Come with me, I will show you our cellar, it is my Father’s we are very lucky.

‘I would say I am very lucky to be honoured with your special brandy, I would not offer such a drink to any guest. But then I am not a good man.’

He chuckled but Nestor did not, there was something nasty underlying the humour and his personality. One had to be careful. Raymond had bought a platoon of men with him, he trusted no-one, he raised his head and four of his men came over.

‘I hope you don’t mind, I trust you, but I do not trust others not to try to overwhelm me, my men will stand outside and guard this door.’

It was not a question.

Once they were in the cellar, Nestor drew up a chair for Raymond and made him comfortable; pouring a tot of the brandy and handed him a small dish of nuts from his orchard in the country. Nestor spoke a bit of his farm and the surrounding lands, Raymond knew the area and the people and joined in the pleasantries, a second glass was taken.

‘What can I do for you Nestor?’

Nestor had only taken one glass of the brandy, he knew it’s strength, it was mellow but extra strong. Raymond was a little warm, not woozy but he knew he had a drink, he sat back, he was expecting Nestor to ask him for the land next to his, he knew that the old man who owned it had died and with him going there was no-one else to claim it, it had reverted to Toulouse’s administration.

‘Raymond, are you aware that Paul is a pederast?’

Raymond was sober very quickly. Of course he knew, he had held this information over his head for many years but knowing also made him culpable. Nobody spoke of the boys that had passed through his house, the last deemed a scandal at the time he had been bought into the house, because there were two boys there of similar age, under the pretext that they were his wards, children he had taken into his house on grounds of charity. He was known to pay at least two pensions to families destroyed by his behaviour. Raymond looked at Nestor to see if he could work out where this was going. This matter was not spoken of, the Pope was unaware, Raymond had seen to it that the news did go outside of Toulouse, many suspected only a few knew and less than none spoke of it. If Nestor spoke of it openly then it was proof that Paul’s time was done. He would need to make it so.

‘What do you want?’

‘Nothing, that is nothing from you. There are many people who support the cause but can no longer support Paul, and it is not just the boys. He made promises to people, that he would help them if they provided men to protect the town, he has walked away from those responsibilities, and he is blaming the Pope. You are implicated, you are the Pope’s representative here in Toulouse, we go via you to the Pope, so if the Pope does not come or does not honour his promise, you are the person who can influence that and we know the Pope won’t settle matters until your position is settled. You have your problems, your wife is out there professing to be Cathar and you have let the Cathars openly practice, so there are two things people are unhappy about; there is a third. You are divorced.’

‘I am not divorced the marriage was annulled. She was barren.’

‘Your second wife was your mistress and she is a Cathar, it is an open secret. You still do not have any children.’

‘What do you want?’

‘We want nothing from you except your presence at a meeting in the town hall on Friday, we are going to challenge Paul and install Makedon in his place. He is a commander of men and he runs a large administrative district, he will make a good leader, you will soon be gone, you need to leave the town in good hands and your life here in an orderly manner. You already have a challenger on the town panel, Simon de Montfort is a papal favourite, he has noble friends, wealthy English relatives and a Spanish wife, they will all support him with men and money, all we ask is that you be there on Friday. You do not need to say anything, just be present. How say you?’

Raymond thought for a second. What were his choices? Bring in a greater force and expel the people at the meeting? Raid all the people who opposed him? He knew he did not have the resources to hold the City. The men were not his, there was insufficient time. He didn’t know how many of them would be at the meeting, or how many men would be protecting the building Paul was going to be deposed, he had it coming, he should have got rid of him when he got the second boy in the house, that was disgraceful, he had turned a blind eye, it was wrong. He could leave town between now and Friday, that was an option, but then he would not be able to return nor could he appeal to the Pope. He might have a chance if he stayed, if he did have to subsequently leave it would be done in an orderly and graceful manner, not rushing to grab anything that he could without working out who could host him, he would have to leave France, there would be no time to send envoys or letters, his time was coming, if he waited he might have a chance to put out some feelers or at least find someone who could offer refuge.

‘What time?’

The next day was quiet, the men had worked hard the day before, they had light training rather than risk being overwrought and tired. They had light duties, making sure their equipment was ready, cleaned, polished and stacked in the right place ready for they set off for the raids. Two elements of clothing were prepared, one close clothed for fighting, the other cloaks to hide them while walking through town.

Laurent used some of his fast running out money to buy all of the men a proper meal, a few chickens, a haunch of deer, a large container of cassoulet from the inn down the street and a roast ham. Supplemented by fresh vegetables: potatoes, carrots, turnips and some green leaves picked fresh out of someone’s field. This was topped off by the best pain de campagne that could be sourced, not the hard heels and ends of loaves they were used to. The cold weather had sharpened the taste of the vegetables particularly the greens, after this the men would do anything for him. It was a feast, Aimeric and Lydos cooked and despite having no wine or beer they were merry and all sat together cramped in the hall and on the stairs, there was a jovial air despite the fact that the next day, their fight would begin in earnest. Half-way through the meal, Nikandros returned. He had spent the day talking to the men that Father Louse had co-ordinated, they were quick in thought and tactical, he had travelled around town and spoken to five of them and laid out plans. He had taken some plans of the buildings, and a rough strategy for approaching the buildings. His and Laurent’s men would raid Kastor’s house, get Damen out and seize Kastor. The wife would be left to fend for herself, they ran a number of stables and hostelries, she was capable of running them if he did not return. They had no other source of money, they might be genteel but they had to make money. Theomedes had cut his allowance when he run off with Jokaste. The men ended the day on a high note, they would have some more light training to reinforce the raid that they would undertake the next day, hopefully a good night’s rest and finally on Friday an end to all their troubles.

The plan was to spend the day in light training, have two solid meals early in the day, and then split the team. They needed around twenty men to make sure they could secure the house, and rescue Damen without too much trouble. They had confirmation from Raymond via Nestor that he was still coming on Friday, Paul they left, he would come or he wouldn’t, they would deal with whatever the day threw up.

All of Damen’s men wanted to come on the raid to save him, they could not all go. Nikandros and Laurent at first thought they could draw straws and then they thought no, they needed to take their best men. It was one thing to take the help offered it was another to try to employ the best at the role, the latter was better even if it meant upsetting some ardent fighters.

‘Fuck this, I am going to choose my best men. Some of them are well meaning but fucking useless. I am going to choose: Stavos, cannot do without him, Pallas, don’t choose Lazar he will be distracted, Lydos he’s sensible and has a good head, I want Plum, Jord of Course, Huet is handy and he is vicious, Adric he’s practical, it’s a pity Govart deserted he would be have been useful, he is burly and nasty we need some nasty, Elon is good he has a good head on him. How many is that? We need ten to break into the house, another ten out on the street defending, let me think, who else we can take? I’ll go and get Stavos he can fill out the rest.

The raid had to take place at night, not too late or that would bring more attention, it was dark by five, they settled on eight. The curfew fell at nine. If all went to plan then all should be completed by the curfew, it still wasn’t clear how they would leave the space, certainly not as a group, and although Nikandros hadn’t said anything he didn’t intend taking Kastor away. He was just another piece of shit that didn’t deserve to live. He’d need to think carefully about who should lead, he wanted to go in first but realistically his face might be too familiar he was after all a family friend and compatriot of Damen’s, he didn’t know who else might be living there. Laurent had to stay back he was immediately recognisable, he could not stay in the street, hood or not his slight figure told on him.

Finally the selected men gathered, they had to make their way to Kastor’s house. Ten men were to go into the house, and ten men were to stand in the street around the house. They could not get into the back of the house, they had to rush in disarm any men, persuade them to let Damen out and if not break every door down until they found him. Jord led the group into the house, he was to push into the house, someone else would knock on the door. Stavos was too big to lead the group, Nikandros was too well known, they chose Lydos, he was older and did not look like someone who was either a soldier or used to fighting. This mis-played him but was useful, he was both.

Lydos approached the house and politely asked:

‘Is Kastor de Vere here?’

The five men rushed into the house, Jord, Lydos, Pallas, Nikandros and Stavos in order of size, rather like a wedge, there was no stopping them. There were another five men standing behind them who pressed into the house, Kastor came running down the stairs, Damen started yelling from somewhere downstairs, they didn’t know where he was but it was coming from a basement, two men came running up from the area where Damen was heard, two more came from rooms on the ground floor, Kastor and Paul had posted five men outside, they too tried to get into the house, but were seized and dragged off in the shadows and beaten by the men Nikandros had posted on the house, there was a kerfuffle not too much noise, the kind of sound that brought you to a window to look but not to open a door. Nikandros and Laurent’s men used thick batons to stun and knock the men out. They were prepared for someone to come for Damen but not a pack of large men who could fight. Curfew was almost on them, there wasn’t the burly noise of fighting only the noise of some men being quietly hurt. Laurent walked briskly into the house, there was a scuffle and two women screaming, silenced by hands over their mouth. Nikandros was telling everyone to shut the fuck up, in actual fact his language was appalling and only worsened by Stavos who did not care which gender the householders were, only that they were put into one of the rooms on the ground floor, shut up and locked up until they had managed to get Damen out. Laurent ran through the crowd, he could hear Damen shouting, he could not take down any of the men guarding the door, he did not have the weight, but he did have a short sword and throwing it struck one man in his throat killing him instantly and threw another man down the stairs to the basement by kicking him in the balls when he ran upstairs his hands raised to knock Laurent down. He kicked him in the head to make sure he would not get up when he reached the bottom of the stairs. Laurent was on a mission, when he got to the bottom of the stairs there was the next dilemma…who had the keys?

‘Where are the keys? Who has the fucking keys?’

‘Never mind those.’ Stavos was behind him. ‘Come on Sir.’

Jord was in a hand to hand fight with one of Kastor’s men, he hit Jord in the face and managed to struggle free, Laurent caught sight and turned back running up the stairs, picked up a hall chair and knocked the man out, he ran back down, Stavos was engaged in punching another of the men stationed on the door, that meant the room holding Damen was essentially undefended. Laurent looked around him, there was nothing to open it. The power was broadly balanced, there was much more noise than they had intended, but they had not expected there to be so many men and wanted to ensure that none escaped to get more help. Kastor was forgotten in the fighting, he tried to slip out but Plum was guarding the door and short arm punched him, knocking him out and down. 

‘I’ll deal with him.’

Nikandros grabbed Kastor who like himself and Damen was not small, Nikandros hit him over the head to keep him dazed and dragged him outside. He started to talk to him. Pleasantly and politely, he asked how Kastor was, asked if Kastor knew who he was, and if he knew what was likely to happen. Nikandros told him that he heard that he was friends and in business with Paul, hoped his business was doing well because his wife would need it when he was gone, then the questioning took a different bent.

‘So you prefer to help a man who abuses children? Why?’

Kastor was helpless, he couldn’t speak and Nikandros did not wait for an answer, he stuck his knife straight into his heart instantly killing Kastor. Nikandros threw him to ground.

‘Clear that piece of shit away.’

Two men came forward, picked him up and threw him into the wagon with three other bodies.

By the time he got back into the house, Kastor’s men had been overcome, it only wanted for the heavy door behind which Damen was imprisoned to be opened. Nikandros joined Laurent.

‘Where is the key?’

‘If I knew where the fucking key was I would open the fucking door!’

‘Manners.’

Nikandros pulled a set of keys from his pocket. 

‘That fucker had these about his person, I relieved him of them, and his life. I hope you don’t mind.’

He opened the door and decided to leave the lovebirds a moment to themselves. The noise upstairs had descended to a conversational level, neighbours had returned to their own business. The women had stopped crying. This was the moment Nikandros liked. Everything was back in its place. He only had one more task.

Damen was chained to the floor a manacle attached to his foot, Laurent searched the handful of keys and found one that fit. They flew into each other’s arms; when Damen was finally free they stood apart staring at each other glad to see the other safe, marvelling in the other, they kissed each other several times only stopping to hold onto each other, and Laurent said to him.

‘I have plenty to ask you and to tell you, but you must first go upstairs and bless and thank Nikandros for organising this, he is a friend without equal, you must show your appreciation of him.’ 

He turned Damen, put a hand on his backside and pushed him:

‘Go on. I shall be right behind you.’

Damen hadn’t quite got his senses or his balance back, he turned around, steadied himself and hugged Laurent again.

’Oh! How I missed you.’ 

He gave him a kiss on each cheek, then on the mouth, another bear hug and then ran upstairs.

The women servants and Jokaste were back upstairs in their rooms, the children were safe. Nikandros spoke:

‘I wanted to take your children away from you because you are not fit to be their Mother, but I am assured that to take them away would be worse. We will leave you now, we have no intention of coming back, so you can stay here safe in the knowledge that you will not see any of us again. Don’t try to contact Damen or his family, they are done with you. Your life is set, take care of those children because I for one will not think twice to come back for them if you place them in any danger.’

He did not wait for a response and with that Nikandros swept from the room, he rallied his men in the downstairs hall, counted them out of the door, all safe and correct, only minor cuts and bruises and they left the house silently. Paul’s men who had been guarding the house were in a poor way, let them find their own way home or to Paul.

The wagon had dampeners on the wheels, it pulled off quietly, Jord and Aimeric in the seats up front, covered over in the back were several bodies including Kastor’s; they had the longest journey to get rid of the bodies. There was a lime pit to the south of the city, they could dump the bodies there, nobody to watch them in their dark task. In the centre of the walking group Damen and Laurent, but as arranged, when they left the house the group split and took a variety of routes back to their quarters, only Laurent and Damen took the main road followed behind by Pallas and Plum, again Laurent took Damen’s arm. They chatted happily as they strolled home.

‘Where am I sleeping tonight?’

‘That’s a stupid question.’

‘Not really, you might lock me out again.’

‘There were reasons for that, I did not want to rush you.’

Laurent squeezed himself up against Damen.

‘I shall never think that you take advantage of me, I can tell that you care…’

‘You are young, you might think differently in future…for now let’s live every day as if it were our last…the times are troubled…we may not live that long…look, I have already reached half the span of my years…sshhh…you have a good number of years ahead of you…all I have said is true…let’s just live our lives day by day…together…OK?’

Laurent was sad for the moment, because Damen had not told a lie, who knew when danger, illness or death might befall them, they just had to make the most of their time together, he took comfort from what Damen had finally said, they would spent their time together. It was late, they were safe, Damen put his arm around him, and Laurent snaked his arm under Damen’s cloak, they were a pair who fit very comfortably together, there was no need for further words.

It was after midnight when all where back at their quarters, the meeting was at eleven, some of the men had to be in place by seven before all the main shops were open, bread shops and inns were likely to be open before, some of the men would take their breakfast in nearby inns, and drift into place, it was more natural. It meant that some men were existing on five hours sleep, but adrenaline is a powerful thing, and everyone was up for the challenge. Laurent and Damen fell asleep immediately, and were only rousted by Plum’s knock on the door. They joined the others for a good breakfast, leftover food from the day before and some fresh bread. The early men had already left, Damen, Laurent, Nikandros and Plum were going in as or with panel members, the rest of the team had their positions to take up, and slowly the yard began to empty. They were the last to leave, Damen gathered them into a group and spoke a short prayer wishing them good luck and long life, they each hugged one another and set off to meet the other panel members in time for the meeting to start sharp at 11.00am

At half past ten all the panel members were outside the building, at twenty to eleven, Raymond drew up in a carriage, with several men in formal attire and a group of soldiers he swept into the building and took his seat as an observer facing the Chair’s seat that is facing what would be Paul’s. He had with him two men who stood either side. Left the remaining men outside to guard the door. As Nikandros had anticipated, he had brought only ten fighting men. The Panel members swept in behind him, twelve men: Damen, Laurent, Charls, Makedon, Enguerrand, Simon de Montfort, Charron, Meniados, Audin, a man they had never seen and two Craft Guildsmen, Boucher and Charpentier who were to speak on behalf of the townsfolk. Nikandros recognised the last two because they had provided some of the men Father Louis had patronised.

They sat at the long table in the middle of the hall, fourteen men and a variety of servants, guards and soldiers lined the hall. In fact all the men in the hall were on the side of the panel, they were able to infiltrate by making the most of Father Louis’ contacts, they had an idea that Raymond knew this but he did not quaver, they had another twenty five men stationed by the doors outside the building casually and on guard the normal wardens were excused.

‘Does anyone know when Paul will come?’

Charls spoke.

‘He is expected at any moment, he may have been delayed, the town is busy it is market day, that we why we planned the meeting for this morning, this afternoon the hotel de ville is closed for business.’

They continued waiting, there was polite conversation around the room, some cups and jugs of water were brought to the table. Nobody was leaving.

Sounds were heard outside they were not the calm orderly sound of a man and retinue, rather someone being walked into a building under force.

‘Ah…here he is, Welcome my friend.’

Paul was looking a bit bedraggled, there were a few marks on his face, marks where someone had obviously held his head in a grip.

‘I hope we did not prevent you undertaking business elsewhere, we do not plan to keep you long. Take your place, we will wait until you are settled. Good…now we may begin.’

Paul began to look fearful, all the men in the room had some kind of grievance against him, he began to rack his brains to remember what he had told each of them.

‘If you don’t mind Paul, I will chair this meeting as you are being called upon to speak on your own behalf, we have scribes who will note the questions and then we will have a forum to discuss how to resolve the issues raised. I don’t think you will find it difficult to answer the questions. I hope you don’t mind that Raymond is here? He is an impartial observer who may be able to assist you either now or later when matters are progessed.’

‘Monsieur Charls, I feel like I am being held to account, perhaps for things that are not in my control, I am waiting for Raymond to provide the goods and monies promised by the Vatican. If this is about the men you have brought to town you have only to ask Raymond when the Pope will honour his promise to the town, he promised Toulouse that he would send a Crusade to thwart the Cathars, we are still…’

‘Shut Up. I am tired of your bullshit. You promised me that you would take the fifty men I provided regardless of whether the Pope paid or not. You told me you were wealthy beyond my experience and that it would be nothing to you to take the men once delivered. I have honoured my side of the bargain, I am waiting for you to honour your side.’

‘Where are the licences of trade for Toulouse men? You promised that you had licences at your disposal to trade goods between Barcelona and Toulouse. Our guildsmen produce the finest furniture and charcuterie in Europe and yet others trade with Spain, while some of us sit with our mouths open and no money to buy food for our children. This was a promise made to us two years ago.’

At this Raymond spoke.

‘Those licences are not his to grant, he may make recommendation, but he cannot grant them, they are at my disposal through agreement with the Vatican.’

An aristocratic English voice speaking very good French came from down the table.

‘You promised that you would provide men and supplies to join the Crusade to the Egypt, where are they? The Pope awaits your contribution.’

Again Raymond spoke.

‘He is not at liberty to provide men directly to the Vatican, any Toulouse men must be approved by my commanders, we would not send trash to fight on behalf of the Pope. Do not take that as a criticism of your men, gentlemen, it is just to ensure that the men are of the right faith. Our colleague here has experience of expelling ungodly men from his realm, we would do the same. The Cathars are the bane of our lives here in Toulouse but even so they are Christian, wrong thinking but Christian. I meet and discuss theology with the Cathars, most of them could be set straight without fighting, I cannot guarantee that Paul would provide men even of their quality. There are other issues which persuade the Cathars that Catholicism is venal, there are people who say they are Catholic and are in fact the most wicked and evil of men. The realm of the mortal is not divine.’

At this the room’s mood shifted. The things that had been spoken of were worldly things, issues for the town, not issues for individuals, the meeting was being opened up to discuss other more troubling matters.

The unknown man spoke, he was of gentle disposition, his clothes though good were threadbare and old, his hands were covered in marks, he obviously worked with his hands but did not work hard with his body, he was lithe, his voice was high and clear, he sounded younger than he looked, he pulled off his hood, a fine looking man, slim not overly masculine, attractive, his hair a deep chocolate brown and his eyes a startling blue. And it became apparent who he was.

‘My son Nicaise is a ward of Toulouse, I lost everything when my land was flooded ten years ago, when I mean I lost everything I mean everything. I live off the kindness of neighbours they comfort me and support me, our little house dried out but everything that was in it was destroyed, my wife and younger child died of the fever that came afterwards, my older child was taken into an orphanage and I stayed to look after our goats who provided meat, cheese and Angora, a living for our family. I weave the Angora into luxury cloth, I have provided Charls for many years, that cloak that Paul is wearing comes from my looms. It is a specialist craft and the cloth is sought after. I make enough to live on myself and I can afford to keep my son, I have a home for him but he was put in the orphanage when I was at my worst and when I went for him, he had gone, he was only nine, nine years and he had disappeared. I was told that a grand man had come for him and promised to take care of him, my little boy was being taken care of and not to worry about him, he would have a better life, and I believed them. A year later the grand man came to my door and offered me a pension, he said you may have this money to maintain your land, buy more animals and provide for your son. I am looking after him, I will continue to board him until he is thirteen and then you can teach him your trade, except he never returned, the pension is paid quarterly, I do not touch it. You can come to my home and check, the bags of money are all there. I do not want his money, I want his life.’

‘I too gave my life to Paul, it was not willingly given, I had lost my mother and he offered to help my father who was in distress, and could not cope with caring for his young son, a living reminder of his beloved partner. I lost at the same time, my mother, my father and my brother. He took from me things that were not his to take. I too want his life.’

‘What do you say Paul?’

Paul stood, as did the rest of the table, he held his dignity. As one the twelve men walked towards him and surrounded him. Raymond got up and left the room. He did not look back.

‘Who will be first?’

Me, came the soft high older voice.

I am second, said the soft high younger voice

Each laid a mark on Paul’s body and at the end he was laid there on the floor, twelve knives around his heart. His face placid, eyes closed, mouth open. Damen spat on him, then threw a cloth from table upon the open face.

Damen took Laurent’s hand, they walked off out into the morning sun, behind them Nicaise’s father also left the town hall and slowly walked through and out of the square into a resolved life, finally able to put the upset of what had happened to his son to one side. Time would tell if his son would return to him, he was only glad that Paul was gone. The remaining Panel members stayed behind and convened in a room upstairs, setting up a rough timetable for the next few weeks when they would meet to discuss the town’s issues and decide how to go forward.

The guarding men scattered, variously to their quarters, homes or offices, Laurent’s men were unsure where they should go, in the end they decided to join with Damen’s men, when they got back Aimeric and his gaudy gown had disappeared, they did not care, he was useless and his ass could be put to better use elsewhere. Jord was disappointed but not surprised, a better opportunity had arrived. Aimeric was noble, Jord wasn’t even a tradesman or craftsman, his family had always been retainers or soldiers, he could fold back into the group, there had been no shame, he would miss him though, he was a good fuck. That meant there were only eight men to cater for, Plum would be taken into the household as Laurent’s personal servant and assistant. Jord might be lucky and get some kind of cubby hole or separate section in the men’s quarters, he was not proud, he was more of their ilk than Plum or Nikandros.

The whole venture had been nerve racking for all involved but in the end, it had gone smoothly, Paul’s body was taken away by the men who had brought him, the hall was cleaned and set right, everything looked and was set back to normal. Toulouse city carried on unaware and unregarding, if Paul went, someone else would replace him, in the end it did not matter who was in charge, it made little difference to ordinary folk.

That night there is another feast, Damen and Laurent provided food, wine and ale for the men, there was a lot of speechmaking, congratulations, praising and promises of everlasting friendship. No thought is given to the future, that is another country and a different time. An hour into the feast, Damen looks at Laurent and they retire to bed. Nikandros makes a quiet remark.

‘Do you have keys?’

‘Fuck Off.’

They do not bother to wash properly, only the bits that mattered and cleaned their teeth with salt and charcoal, spitting out the bitter mixture and rinsing their mouths thoroughly.

‘Your hair is wild Damen, when did you last brush it?’

‘Ermm…I don’t know…I’ll wash it tomorrow. I cannot be bothered.’

‘Let me brush it for you.’

Laurent was down to his under things, Damen was naked.

‘Put your cloak on the floor, sit in front of me.’

Damen gathered the cloak around him, the room was cool.

‘Aren’t you cold?’

‘I won’t be once I start, and you are between my legs…’

…The hair was no longer a concern.

**Author's Note:**

> This is Fiction.
> 
> I wanted to examine some of the themes which are touched on Captive Prince and look at how Laurent might react to finding out that he is attracted to Damen. This means that some of the things Laurent experiences are troubling, in the books it is clear that he does make his way through his difficulties and this is the case here but he has to journey to get there.
> 
> I also wanted to stay close to the themes and people in the books, so familiar characters appear, some of the same issues arise but they are not the same, and it also seemed that these needed to be set in some historical context and this period in France is fascinating and interesting. Some of the people and things that happen are real but out of context or time in this story, so it is not factual but influenced by the Cathar/Albigensian heresies and events in Toulouse during the 12th - 14th Centuries. This is my first attempt at a story based on the Captive Prince characters, I'll be back...


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